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BOSAMOND- HOWARD. 


BY 


KATIE R. LOVELACE. 


“Let lower spirits linger 
For hint and beck and nod ; 
She always sees the finger 
Of an onward urging God.” 



NEW YORK: 

THE AUTHORS’ PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

BOND STREET. 


V 




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by 
THE AUTHORS’ PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 




TO MY MOTHER 

THIS BOOH IS APFECTIONATELT INSCEIBED BY 


TEE AUTHOR. 







PEEFAOE. 


Fact and fancy interwoven. 

The stern and pleasing realities of life ; with the ideal 
life beyond. 


K. K. L. 






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1 V 





ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


CHAPTER 1. 

** God taught me to read ; 

He lent me tlje world for a book.” 

F AR away from the world’s busy tumult, where only 
an occasional echo of its noisy din trembled at times 
along the breezy mountain-tops, and was lost mid the 
silence of nature’s solitude, barren and rugged hills lifted 
their heads heavenward, as in stern defiance of man’s 
power to make or mar ; and sterile fields gave back a 
scanty harvest for the laborer’s toil. 

Upon one of the lesser hills, where rude culture had 
done its best to eradicate the defects of nature, stood a 
farm-house, a low rambling building of somewhat modern 
structure, where Kosamond Howard spent many of her 
early years. 

Had you have seen her upon the eve our story opens, 
sitting in the low doorway, the glow of the summer sun- 

( 7 ) 


8 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


set glimmering around, below, above her, you would have 
called her a most ordinary looking child. No dimpled 
form, or tinted hues on cheek or lip, no merry light of 
happy childhood lingered on her face, but a sad, pitiful 
little face it was that turned to the glowing sunset. The 
great blue-gray eyes, one of her redeeming features, 
glowed and dilated as she watched the changing beauty 
of sky and woodland ; beauty, such as pencil of artist 
never yet drew down to earth. 

The little heart heaved with repressed emotion, and 
out of the rich brown hair that in the sunlight catches so 
many changing hues, gleamed the high broad brow like 
marble in the fading light ; a brow that promised a 
rare harvest of high and holy thought in her coming 
womanhood. The sweet mouth, round which the firm 
lines even then began to gather, quivered as if with pain, 
and the little close-clasped hands expressed, perhaps, 
more fully the sensitive, highly wrought nervous tem- 
perament that would be a blessing or a curse all life 
through. 

0 ye mothers, clasp close these little sensitive, spirit- 
ual natures given you to guard and guide ; watch over 
them with a tenderness akin to the Divine Master’s ; for 
in the days that are coming, amid the discords, the dis- 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


9 


appointments of life, these are the hearts that will quiver 
and ache with untold pain. Happy such who in their 
early years the tender Shepherd gathers home. 

Evening after evening she sat in the low doorway, 
while the sunset glowed and faded in the western sky ; 
thinking, wondering what scene lay over the distant 
mountain-tops where the glowing sun had disappeared ; 
was the world over there like the world she lived in ? 
Oh, no ! it must be a brighter, far more beautiful one, 
and her heart glowed with the thought that when she 
became a woman she would go and see for herself ; yet it 
seemed such a long while to wait, for only twelve years 
had the summers bloomed and faded around her. 

As the light faded on the horizon, she turned her 
eyes toward the lumious lights that ever gleam like 
jewels in the dark blue cave above. As she viewed their 
silvery radiance sparkling above her an expression of 
gladness flitted across her face, and reaching her arms 
upward as if she would clasp them in her embrace she 
softly murmured, ^^My diamonds, my beautiful dia- 
monds ! ” 

Ah, yes ! little one, more beautiful diamonds than 
ever decked a monarch’s crown, and they are yours, all 
yours. 


10 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


Kosamond, come in and shut that door,” the harsh 
voice of her aunt called from an inner room. 

The girl started as if some one had struck her, the glad- 
ness swiftly died out of her face, and her eyes flashed as 
in sudden anger, as she arose and quickly closed the door. 
Taking a candle which stood waiting for her on the table, 
she flitted away up the dark stairway that led to her at- 
tic room. 

After performing her simple toilet and asking the 
blessed Jesus to forgive and watch over her another 
night, she fell asleep, and her soul, in its mysterious 
travels, roamed at will among the beautiful stars she 
loved so well. 

Perhaps sentinel angels kept guard around her with 
unwonted care, for Rosamond had never known the deep 
tenderness of a mother’s love. 

Few were the. words of affection that greeted her ear 
— only God knew why — and the little heart that should 
have been opening like a beautiful flower in the sunlight 
of love was even in these early years learning the sad 
hard lesson of repressing her natural feelings. 

Her aunt provided her all the bodily comforts of life ; 
its luxuries she could not afford. Conscience would not 
allow of her doing otherwise by her dead sister’s child ; 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


11 


but sbe forgot the little sensitive, starving heart and 
soul — starving for sympathy and love. She was a woman 
who had lived through much disappointment and sorrow, 
and instead of making her a tenderer, nobler woman, she 
had allowed it to corrode her heart and life, until harsh, 
unkind words had become a perpetual habit with her. 

Eosamoh(ft uncle, a man of few abilities, although 
possessing a good kind heart, had long ago given up all 
hope of a happy home, such as he had pictured in his 
far-away youth, and had learned to find comfort in his 
homely duties, and forgetfulness in sleep. Yet his eyes 
often lingered in pity upon the child growing up in the 
unwholesome atmosphere of such a home. 

He often thought of the little one who had just learned 
to lisp “ papa,” ere the angels came, one morning when 
the dew lay heavy on fiower and shrub, and bore him away 
toward the eastern light ; and although he missed the 
patter of little feet and the clasp of chubby arms, and 
knew when old age should overtake him there would be 
no strong young arm to lean upon, looking upon the sad 
face of little Kosamond, out of the great unselfishness 
of his heart, perhaps he was glad that it was so. 

Years before Kosamond’s mother had married a man of 
culture and refinement, whom she had met at her uncle’s 


12 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


city home, where she was making a transient visit ; and 
although misfortune followed close upon their love dream, 
and poverty, that wolf which howls around the door of 
so many homes, made sad havoc in theirs, through all 
faith and love never faltered. 

But a few months after the young mother kissed her 
new horn babe and fell asleep, her head pillowed low in 
the dust, the father was laid by her side ; and little Kosa- 
mond was all that was left of the bright brief dream, 
and her aunt had taken her to her country home, where 
she had grown up amid the stern aspects of nature. 


CHAPTER II. 

“ Thou hast learned the woes of all the world. 

From thine own longings and lone tears.” 

The morning dawned clear and beautiful. 

Soft mists lay on hill and valley to drift away ere long 
into the azure sky and leave the earth sparkling with 
dewy gems, which reflected the sunlight in myriad tiny 
rainbows. 

The sweet voices of birds chanting their morning 
hymns alone broke the stillness, but they roused Rosa- 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


13 


mond from her dreams, and she quickly arose and 
hastened down to help her aunt with the morning work, 
hut occasionally looked wistfully out of door or window, 
for she loved to watch the soft mists rise and, dividing 
into fleecy clouds, float away into unknown skies, like 
boats with gleaming sails drifting away into unknown 
waters. 

She hastened with her morning tasks, and preparing 
her noon lunch in her little basket, started for school. 

Her way for a half mile lay through the deep woods. 
She loved its solitude, loved to watch the tiny squirrels 
winking their eyes at her, then darting away ; loved to 
listen to the voices of birds, each singing his own pecu- 
liar notes, but blending above the tree tops in one sweet 
harmony. There was the old log with its mossy seat, 
where she often rested on her return at the close of the 
day ; and the babbling brook telling strange tales of its 
far away home in the hills ; how the painted Indian, of 
which she had read, and whose sorrowful story always 
touched her heart, had drank from its cooling waters ; 
how the deer had leaped its banks and sped away ; the 
bear with his wild companions had prowled along its 
mossy slopes ; and after greeting her it was going on — 
and on — through stranger sights and sounds, out into 


14 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


that great world, perhaps, of which she dreamed, going 
to meet the eternity of waters. Wonderful were the 
tales that brook used to tell. 

In after years, when the world with its sights and 
sounds were around her, mid its strife and busy cares, 
her thoughts would return sometimes to the hush of 
those deep woods. The sweet breath of its ferns seemed 
again to linger around her, the piping of wild birds 
echoing in the air, the brook babbling its story again, 
and the remembrance was like a benison of peace. 

The school house was at the top of a long hill which 
lay beyond the woods, and the sun’s rays almost seemed 
to scorch the little tired figure climbing its long stony 
road. 

The school house was an old weather-beaten building, 
with rude desks running all round it, marred by hiero- 
glyphics of mischievous school boys through several 
generations. Here Eosamond spent day after day, learn- 
ing the rudiments of knowledge. 

Summer’s heat or winter’s cold always found her in 
her accustomed place, with her little sad face bent over 
her books ; her thirsty mind drinking knowledge in such 
deep draughts, that the common minds around her were 
left far behind. 


BOSAMOND HOWARD. 


15 

Sometimes when a new teacher filled the desk and 
selected her favorite, as all teachers will, the choice was 
usually some pretty mischievous elf, and the little sad 
face of Kosamond passed by ; hut as the weeks passed 
away the wonderful intelligence of those gray eyes be- 
gan to dawn upon the teacher, awakening at first a deep 
interest, then respect and love, and a strong desire to 
help the little thirsty soul onward. 

Often in after years Kosamond stood by and saw the 
pretty dimpled favorites loved and caressed ; while she, 
cut to the heart, passed unnoticed ; yet some, observing 
the wonderful light of those blue-gray eyes, learned to 
love and respect her with the deepest homage. 

There were times when the sorrowful shadow seemed 
lifted from her face, and the sunlight of joy beamed from 
every feature, making her almost beautiful, and while it 
lasted the wildest, gayest of them all was Rosamond ; 
hut this was seldom, for her earnest eyes looked too deep 
into the depths of life to sport long on its surface. 

Thus the years went by with no outward change in 
Rosamond’s life ; yet, all unknown to those around her, 
behind the little sad face a soul was groping for the 
light, striving to touch if it were but the hem of that 
shining garment passing by ; listening for the lowest 
whisper of that tender voice saying forgiven.” 


16 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


For months the straggle went on, and none knew or 
guessed it, until at last the little hand lay trustingly in 
the nail-pierced palm of Calvar}'-, never to unclasp until 
within the pearly gates of Paradise. 

And it was about this time the gift of song burst its 
fetters (was it a blessing breathed upon the child by the 
Holy Spirit ?). Its first notes trembled along the moun- 
tain tops to be heard, perchance, in after years by listen- 
ing worlds afar. 

It came like a great joy to Kosamond, and proved a 
source of pure delight all life through. 


CHAPTER III. 

“ There is a divinity doth shape our ends, 

Rough hew them as we will.” 

When Rosamond was about fifteen years old, her 
uncle was taken sick, and for weeks he lay on the couch, 
as he said, resting, in the large airy room which served 
as dining and family room ; but each day his face grew 
paler, and the weary look grew deeper. 

Rosamond brought the ferns and flowers she gathered 
on the hillside and tastily arranged them on the table 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


17 


beside him. He always thanked her with a pleased 
smile, and would watch her flitting in and out of the 
room as if he loved to have her near, and her cooling 
hand often bathed his aching brow and eased the dull 
pain there. 

One day when she came in, her hands loaded with her 
woodlawn treasures, her uncle called her to his side, and 
stroking the rich brown hair which the playful winds 
had blown into confusion about her face, he said, Ros- 
amond, only a little while and I shall be gathering the 
fragrant flowers that bloom in the garden of Paradise.” 

“ 0, uncle ! ” exclaimed Rosamond, in surprise. 

Yes, little one, I feel my strength declining every 
hour. Each day I can discern more clearly through the 
mists the domes and pinnacles of :our Master’s pal- 
ace, and soft whispers linger on the air like melodies 
breathed by angel singers. But a few more mornings 
will the sun rise and set ere, my little one, you will be 
a second time orphaned. I have tried in my feeble way 
to be kind to you, tried to shield you what I could from 
the curse which has made my life so unhappy, but I see 
traces of it on your little sad face which will linger there 
for years.” 

The sensitive heart of Rosamond thrilled with emo- 


18 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


tion as she listened to her uncle’s words, and the tears 
streamed from her eyes as she said, Uncle ! dear uncle ! 
do not leave me. 0, if I only might go with you ! ” 

But with the prophetic vision often given those near- 
ing the portals of eternity, he said, No, little one, it 
will ho long years yet before the Master will say to you 
^come,’ and there are hitter trials before you — heart 
struggles and much sorrow ; but I see a brave, strong 
soul looking out of your eyes ; a soul that clinging to 
Divine help will bear and conquer, ay, even unto death ; 
and the feeble efforts of my life appear beside it like the 
frail attempts of an infant. Go now, little one, and 
may God bless you, for I would be alone awhile.” 

These were the last words Kosamond ever heard him 
utter, for that night a little shining form stood by his 
bedside, and a chirping voice said, ‘^Come, papa,” and 
clasping the little hand, together they floated away into 
the misty blue depths above, and another soul was 
free. 

Soon after, Mrs. Dean, Kosamond’s aunt, sold her 
farm and removed to the village of Lee, about three 
miles distant ; for a farmer’s life had always been dis- 
tasteful to her. 

Perhaps she missed the patient care which had been 


mSAMOND HOWARD, 19 

around her so many years, and longed to get away where 
memory could not reproach her so forcibly. 

She rented a small cottage near the outskirts of the 
village, and here began a new life for Kosamond. Her 
mind had long felt cramped in the old school-house on 
the hill, and the privileges passed so idly by the boys 
and girls of the village, opened before her like a vista of 
delight 

Oh, the hoards of knowledge in that village library, 
and the white school building, with its green blinds 
and pleasant yard, like things of which she had 
dreamed. 

The shy little maiden with the sad face and wonder- 
ful eyes, who came and went so quietly among them, 
was quite a curiosity to the youths and misses of the 
village. 

Kosamond soon found that her new life had its bitter- 
ness, for the evil spirit which always possesses school chil- 
dren to torment every new comer, soon manifested itself 
toward her, and the jeers of thoughtless boys and slights 
of the girls were a source of severe trial to her ; often 
the tears would start, but oftener her eyes would flash 
in sudden anger, and with a proud haughty demeanor 
the little figure would walk away. 


20 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


Rosamond made a great struggle to hold the passion- 
ate, haughty temper in check. Often, oh, how often, 
it would overwhelm her, and the passionate words 
would fall from her burning lips like scorching flame, 
and then came hours of remorse and a pitiful cry reached 
the throne of grace, “ Help, help ! ’ and only after years 
of struggle did it lay like a writhing reptile beneath her 
feet, and even then, at times, mocked her with its 
forked tongue ; but conqueror was written on her fore- 
head, and great strength was gained to meet other trials. 

She gained rapidly in her studies. No task was placed 
before her which she could not master. Like a golden 
thread through the dry practical duties, ran the melody 
of her songs ; faint and uncertain as yet, like untried 
fingers upon the harp. A wail of anguish burst from all 
the strings. After the first pain subsided and the star 
of hope beamed upon the darkness, she read the world’s 
great throb of heartache by her own, and a master hand 
evoked from the harp of poesy the rarest, sweetest songs, 
which seemed an echo of the strains of Paradise. 

Among her schoolmates she found one whom she laugh- 
ingly called her “ familiar spirit ; ” a pale, slight girl, 
with wavy blonde hair, and deep blue eyes, full of pleas- 
ant light. She had not the brilliancy of mind which 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


21 


characterized Bosamond, yet a depth and earnestness 
that almost compensated ; and truth and purity were her 
unfailing attributes. A certain brusqueness of manner 
often keeps friends at a distance, but some intuitive 
attraction drew her and Bosamond together, and they 
soon became fast friends, and remained such for many 
years. 

The village of Lee lay in one of the picturesque val- 
leys of the Susquehanna, amid scenery wild and often- 
times rugged, as if fresh from the uncultured hand of 
nature. One morning, while mists lay heavy along its 
banks, to be broken ere long by sunlight like gleams of 
glory into the fog of our sin and darkness, Bosamond, 
with her friend Ella, roamed arm in arm along its banks. 
Both passionately fond of nature, they watched the 
changing scene with keen delight. Dewdrops glittered 
and fell from tree and shrub, and myriad tiny rainbows 
lay shattered at their feet. Voices of birds, as they 
flitted through the trees, and the low chirp of insects 
greeted their ears ; but, more beautiful than all, the in- 
tense azure of the sky gleaming like sapphire through 
the foamy mists suffused with golden light. 

‘‘Ella, does it seem possible a world could be more 
beautiful than this ? ” 


22 


ItOSAMOND EOWAItD, 


No, Rosamond, and yet — ” A dreamy look peculiar 
to her crept into her eyes and face^ while a smile lin- 
gered round her lips, as she left the sentence unfinished. 

It does not seem possible, looking upon this beauti- 
ful morning, there can be sin and misery, and death 
around us,” said the persevering voice of Rosamond. 

It is like a dream to me, Rosamond ; life itself seems 
like a dream,” and the far-away look grew deeper in her 
eyes. 

Oh, vision of loveliness, crowned with light ! May 
I follow thy witching face, thy beckoning finger, ever 
pointing to the stars ! 


CHAPTER lY. 

“ You cannot know the good and tender heart, 

Its girl’s trust and its woman’s constancy. 

How pure, yet passionate. 

How calm, yet kind. 

How reserved, yet free. 

As light where friends are.” 

Ella Sanford was the oldest of six children, and 
her mother being an invalid, and her father in close cir- 
cumstances, much of the training of her young brothers 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


23 


and sisters devolved upon her. The unnatural burden 
laid on her young shoulders served to crush the natural 
buoyancy of her spirits, and to increase the reticence of 
her nature ; and one had to know well the noble spirit 
striving to bear up amid its difficulties. Deprived of 
many pleasures so sweet to the young, and treading a 
path thickly strewn with thorns, with few roses to 
brighten the way, one had to know and see and feel it 
all to love her. This the searching eyes of Kosamond 
soon discerned, and she sorrowed that her friend was 
deprived of pleasures which she was learning to love with 
all the gaiety and enthusiasm of her nature that had lain 
dormant in her childhood. 

Ella was passionately fond of reading, particularly 
poems or novels, that painted life scenes in true beauty 
and loveliness. So much so that if Kosamond wanted 
to have one of their long delightful talks, she would put 
books of peculiar fascination out of her way, for she well 
knew there would be no talking, except on one side, until 
the last leaf was turned. 

One day Ella, having an hour of leisure, was deep in 
the mystery of a delightful novel ; Kosamond ascended 
the softly carpeted stairs of Ella’s pleasant home, crossed 
the hall and entered the room ; but Ella heeded it not, 


24 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


and prompted by the spirit of mischief, Kosamond 
quickly clapped her little hands on either cover of the 
book. A crash, a quick movement, and it lay under 
Kosamond’s feet, while her merry laugh rang through 
the room. 

The slow, dreamy smile turned into a half look of an- 
noyance on Ella’s face.] 

Kosamond did not mind it ; but when her laughter 
had subsided, half in apology, she said, I wanted to 
talk to you, Ella, and I well knew that book would have 
to be ^demolished before I should get a hearing.” 

You succeeded well in your stratagem ; now pray 
go on.” 

What do you think, my friend, I am appointed 
valedictorian.” 

I am glad to hear it, Rosamond.” 

Are you, though ? But that isn’t all.” 

“Well, what [else ? ” and having regained her book 
she began looking for the page so abruptly closed. 

“We are going to have a party ! ” cried the exultant 
voice of Kosamond. 

“ A party ! ” and a look of interest began to dawn in 
Ella’s eyes. 

“ Yes, a party ! The professor is going to give a party. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


25 


The school exercises take place in the afternoon, and in 
the evening we are going to have a party. Isn’t it 
grand, Ella ? ” 

You foolish child ; how you do go on.” 

Well, I’ve been going on this many a year, and now 
I’ve come to a party, or nearly to it.” 

^^Any one would suppose you never went to one in 
your life.” 

I never did, Ella ; ” and the sad look crept into her 
face again as she thought of her lonely childhood. 

You need not look so solemn about it.” 

^^You will go with me, Ella, wont you ” said the 
subdued voice of Rosamond. 

I cannot tell now, Rosamond. If circumstances are 
favorable perhaps I will. You know mother has been 
so poorly that I have not been to school very much the 
last month. It all depends upon how she is at that 
time. When did you say it comes off ? ” 

A week from to-night. Oh, but you must go, Ella ; 
it will spoil half of the pleasure if you do not go. You 
will go, Ella, please ; ” and a soft pleading was in her 
voice. 

And Ella looking into the sad, earnest face of Rosa- 
mond, longing for her first pleasure, said, “If it is possi- 
ble, Rosamond, I will go with you.” 


26 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


Thank you, Ella, and I must go home now or auntie 
will scold. But what will you wear ? ’’ 

Ah, momentous question of woman’s existence from 
tke cradle to the grave. 

I shall have to make my check silk do, I suppose.” 

And I suppose auntie will persist in my wearing my 
white, she is so afraid of me becoming a fashionable 
young lady ; ” and the merry laugh rang out again. 

“ Good-bye,” she called, half down the stairs, and 
then the sound of her footsteps died away in the dis- 
tance. 

The night of the party came on a beautiful J une 
summer’s night. Soft moonlight lay on the earth, and 
stars looked down through its golden mists, while the 
magic lights of the firefly shone here, now there, mid the 
shrubs and flowers. The hum of the cricket and sleepy 
voices of insects alone broke the stillness of the quiet 
village, as Kosamond and Ella, arm in arm, wended their 
way to the party. 

As they drew near the home of Professor K the 

large house was a blaze of light, while soft strains of 
music floated out upon the air, and soon the fair young 
girls were mingling in its pleasant crowd. 

{ Ella’s pale complexion and wavy blonde hair were 


R08AM0ITD HOWARD. 


27 

finely set off by the changing lights of the checked silk, 
an heirloom of her mother’s. 

And Rosamond in white, her rich brown hair wreathed 
in soft waves about her brow, the wonderful large eyes 
scintillated with light, a soft pink tinted her cheeks, 
and a joyous smile wreathed her lips, while her heart 
throbbed with excitement, as she entered upon the scene 
of her first party. 


CHAPTER y. 

** ScuiiPTOKs of life are we as we stand 
With our lives uncarved before us, 

Waiting the time when at God's command 
Our life dream shall pass o’er us. 

If we carve heaven’s light on the yielding stone 
With many a sharp incision, 

Then heavenly beauty shall be our own. 

Our lives an angel vision.” 

Rosamond repeated the words over and over, sitting 
on the steps of her aunt’s cottage in the glow of the 
June sunset. Its mellow light rested upon her upraised 
face, and j^azing into its gold and purple bars, she 
seemed to see the vision of a young girl with brown hair 
wreathed above her brow, eyes of lustrous light full of 


28 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


strange depths, while a smile lingered around her lips, 
as she stood, with uncertain steps, looking before her 
into a path slightly descending, yet broad and smooth 
and lined with banks of beautiful flowers. Further 
on gay scenes of pleasure and strains of bewildering 
music greeted her ear, and scenes of beauty kept break- 
ing on her view, but the path ever descending, was lost 
in strange darkness beyond. 

Kaising her eyes upward she beheld a path narrow and 
rugged. Stones would bruise and thorns rend the feet 
that climbed its ascending way. But gazing upward 
over the jagged path, far upward, forms in gleaming 
robes seemed to meet her view, and away on the distant 
heights a star beamed as if to guide upward, and just 
above it a hand held out a golden crown, gleaming with 
jewels. 

As the vision faded Rosamond raised her eyes heaven- 
ward, and clasping her hands as if in prayer, she mur- 
mured, Ever onward and upward ! ” 

Long she sat there watching the fading light with a 
look of awe upon her face, when a footstep sounded 
along the walk and Ella soon sat beside her. 

I am so glad you came, Ella ; I have been dreaming 
by myself so long I have almost turned into a ghost.” 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


29 


You look solemn enough for one.” 

I have been thinking solemn thoughts, Ella ; I have 
chosen between the world and its pleasures, and for 
heaven, to-night. It is strange such thoughts should 
have come to me, at this time, for you know next week I 
leave for uncle Fred’s, where I shall get a glimpse of 
the world, for which I have longed since my earliest 
years.” 

You are a strange girl, Rosamond.” 

Am I — perhaps — I do not know.” 

And a silence fell between them. It was peculiarly 
significant of Rosamond’s life, that at any crisis or turn- 
ing point of her existence, or any great temptation, great 
wonderful light was given to her to discern the right 
and wrong, and her trust in the good almost always 
saved her. 

Long the friends sat gazing at the smiling stars. At 
last Rosamond, as if coming out of a deep reverie, said, 
^^Does it seem possible it is a year to-night since we 
went to that party at Professor R ’s, to you, Ella ? ” 

And her dreamy voice answered, Yes, it seems ages 
ago.” 

Oh, you horrid old thing ; one would suppose from the 
tone of your voice you had lived since the flood.” 


30 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


Perhaps I have. How do you know but that I was 
a butterfly that sailed over the waste of waters and 
rested upon one of the hill-tops of Lee, and have just 
come to life in the shape of a human being ? ” 

Oh, Ella ! ” and Kosamond’s merry laugh rang out 
joyously, what are you going to turn into next ? ” 
There is no telling, Eosamond.” 

Ho, I shouldn’t suppose there was, Ella ; but as long 
as you remain my good, true-hearted friend, I don’t care. 
You could not be any thing very bad and be that. Do 
you know, Ella, that Ada Beaufort is soon to marry Mr. 
Murray, and going to live in Burlington ? ” 

No, I did not, Eosamond.” 

What a sweet witching girl she is ; all fun and frolic, 
and the greatest flirt, 0 my ! ” 

“ When are they to be married, Eosamond ? 

The first of September, and Carrie Trueman is going 
away to music school, and three or four of the boys are 
going away. What will you do with yourself, Ella ? so 
many of us are about leaving. Hadn’t you better turn 
into a grasshopper and hop down to New York ? I 
dread going alone among strangers, but uncle wishes me 
to come very much. He is father’s brother, you know, 
and 1 long to have a glimpse of the world ; but I will 
write you all about it, my friend.” 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


31 


And Ella, rising to go, said, Perhaps my chance may 
come yet. Good-night, Kosamond.” 

I hope so. Good-night, Ella ; ” and Posamond went 
into the house softly singing : 

“ Not the angels in heaven above, 

' Nor demons far under the sea, 

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. ” 

Oh, the truth and constancy of that girl’s heart. Will 
it become corroded with suspicion and distrust out in the 
world, where she is so soon going ; or will she pass 
through the fire of temptation and worldliness without 
even the smell of fire upon her garments ? Only God 
can tell ! 


CHAPTER YI. 

“ Whether it is better with the many to follow a beaten track. 
Or by eccentric wanderings to cull unheeded sweets.” 

On — on through the morning mists, now through 
pleasant valleys, anon scaling the hill tops, now by the 
side of flowing waters, then through the broken rock, 
ever on went the iron horse with its freight of human 
souls, souls going to meet they know not what — -joy or 
woe — going they know not where. They only know they 


32 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


started for such a port ; whether they will reach that or 
eternity they know not. 

To Eosamond her past life seemed like a receding 
dream. The few bright scenes she would have kept with 
her always, but her sad, companionless childhood and 
her unhappy home she would have gladly forgotten. 

Now she was going to meet what ? Only God knew. 
A feeling half of joy, half of pain, came over her as she 
gazed on the passing scenes of woodland, fields and fiow- 
ing waters, passed by beautiful homes of culture and 
refinement, so peaceful in the morning light that they 
seemed to the outward eye like gleams of Eden. 

Then the scene would change to barren rocks and 
wretched hovels, where pitiful faces of little children 
peered out of the broken window-panes, and her heart 
ached in sympathy. 

Thus dreaming, the time sped on, and the sun passed 
the meridian and slowly descended to the west. When 
the shadows began to creep out of the valleys and up 
the hill-sides, Eosamond neared the great metropolis. 

Soon its bustle was around her, and bewildered, almost 
frightened, she gazed upon the hurrying crowds, who 
jostled her on either side, while the shrill cries of hack- 
men and newsboys rang in her ears. But she soon dis- 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


33 


covered an elderly gentleman eagerly scanning the crowd. 
He saw her wistful look fixed on him, and came quickly 
to her side. 

Is this my niece, Kosamond Howard ? ” he asked 
in a most kindly voice. 

“Yes sir! and this is uncle Fred!” she exclaimed, 
while a relieved look passed over her face and swiftly 
passed into a glad expression of pleasure. 

“ I am very glad to meet you, my dear child ? ” and 
a pleasant smile lit up his countenance. ^ 

He placed her in a carriage waiting, and they sped 
away through the busy throng. On and on, through 
interminable streets and around interminable corners, it 
seemed to Kosamond, until they drew up before a hand- 
some house in one of the pleasantest parts of the city. 

Scarcely had the servant opened the door ere a slight 
girlish form, in misty white garments, came gliding down 
the broad stairway, and a sweet voice said, “0, Papa ! 
1 have waited so impatiently for you ; and I am so glad 
to know and welcome you to our home, cousin Ros- 
amond ; ” kissing her on lip and cheek. Throwing one 
arm around her, she drew Rosamond into the drawing 
room and presented her to a stately lady in black silk as 
“ mamma.” The lady scarcely touching with her dainty 


34 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


fingers the cotton glove on Eosamond’s hand, said, 

You are most welcome. Miss Howard.” 

Irene, this is cousin Eosamond,” and Eosamond 
turning, saw the dark eyes of the haughty beauty of the 
Howard mansion fixed upon her in a contemptous stare, 
as she slowly viewed the slight figure in its neat gray 
travelling suit, cut far from the latest fashion, while she 
said in chilling tones, “Good-evening, Miss Howard,” 
and resumed the reading of her book. 

The blood mounted in waves to Eosamond’s face, then 
receded, leaving her pale as death. Looking upon the 
fashionable young lady clothed in purple silk, and then 
at her own simple attire, she for the first time became 
fully conscious of the distinction which purple and fine 
linen confers upon the wearer. 

Maude, with a grieved look on her face, threw an arm 
around her saying, “I will show you to your room, 
Eosamond.” 

As the door closed upon them, Mr. Howard turned to 
Irene with a frown upon his brow saying, “ Irene, I wish 
you to use Eosamond with becoming politeness while 
she is a guest in my house.” 

“Yes, papa,” she said in dulcet tones, but with a 
contemptous smile upon her lips. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


35 


Ah, Irene Howard ! could you read a page of the 
future that smiles upon you, your haughty lips would 
have turned to an expression of despair ; for that little 
sad face and quiet figure in its old-fashioned dress 
may yet wrench from your selfish heart the sweetest 
hope that ever blossomed there. 

Meanwhile, Maude conducted Kosamond up the broad 
stairway, through the richly carpeted halls, into a room 
which seemed like fairy land to Kosamond. It was all 
rose-color and gold, from the richly frescoed walls down 
to the soft carpet which gave back no sound to her foot- 
steps. Statuary and beautiful pictures gleamed through 
the half twilight of the low turned gas, and the perfume 
of rare fiowers lingered upon the air. 

Kosamond stopped near the threshold as if entranced, 
and softly murmured, How beautiful ! Oh, how beau- 
tiful ! ” 

Maude, smiling upon her, said, “ I hope you will find 
everything pleasant and comfortable, Kosamond ! ” 

Oh, cousin Maude ! this beautiful room cannot be 
for me ! ” 

Yes, Kosamond ; and I hope you will spend many 
happy hours here. Will you go down to dinner ? or if 
you are too fatigued I will send it up to you.” 


36 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


‘‘ Thank you, cousin Maude ; I do not care for any.” 

‘‘ But you must have some, Kosamond ; and I will 
send one of the servants up with it ; ” and kissing her 
she glided out of the room. 

Kosamond, with bated breath, gazed upon the beau- 
tiful pictures and statuary ; at the rich draperies and 
rare flowers ; then throwing herself into one of the low 
easy chairs, bursted into tears. The servant came and 
went, but she paid no heed, but for hours sat there 
thinking over the events of the day, and of the people 
among whom she would daily live, perhaps for months 
to come. 

She knew she would love her noble-faced, kind- 
hearted uncle and Maude, sweet winsome Maude, with 
her gold-blonde hair and merry blue eyes ; but when 
she thought of her cold stately aunt a shiver passed over 
her, and she felt that Irene Howard was the serpent, 
perchance, which lurked in this beautiful Eden. 

Con well the lesson before you, Rosamond ; glean what 
pearls you may from the maelstrom which is surging 
around you ; store them in the casket of memory as 
trophies of bright and happy hours. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


37 


CHAPTER VIL 

“Noiseless falls the foot of time 
That only treads on flowers.” 

Rosamond soon felt happy, and that perfect freedom 
which we always feel when with those whom we respect 
and love, while with her uncle or Maude. But the 
stately politeness of her aunt chilled her. And Irene’s 
kindest kindness was oblivion of her presence ; but for- 
tunately Rosamond seldom met her, as her evenings 
were mostly spent at some gay party or grand salon, and 
her mornings in recovering from the fatigues of the 
night. 

Maude seemed to take great pleasure in showing Ros- 
amond the rare sights of the city, and every day found 
them on some delightful drive or walk with Mr. Howard. 
And each day Rosamond was learning to love her noble, 
kind-hearted uncle better. 

One morning, while viewing the pictures on exhibition 
in one of the art galleries, Rosamond, attracted by the 
brilliant coloring of a picture on the opposite side of the 
room, left her uncle and Maude to get a better view, and 
as she neared it gave an exclamation of surprise. 


38 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


0 Maude ! can I believe my eyes, or am I dream- 
ing ? ’’ 

Maude and her father, turning from the picture they 
were contemplating, with a smile at Kosamond’s excla- 
mation, beheld her standing and gazing upon a large 
picture, on the opposite side of the gallery, her hands 
clasped and her face raised with an expression of aston- 
ishment. 

Coming quickly to her side her uncle said, What 
astonishes you so, my child ? ” 

What is it, Eosamond ? ” asked Maude, in breathless 
curiosity. 

0, uncle ! 0, Maude ! It is Lee ! It is my 

home ! ” Then advancing nearer, she pointed out the 
cottage of her aunt saying, Yes, it must be, for there 
is auntie’s cottage, and the school house, Ella’s home, 
the great railroad bridge with its many arches, and over 
yonder is the river.” 

Yes, it was a fine painting of the picturesque village 
of Lee, with its white cottages, few pretentious resi- 
dences and public buildings, with their background of 
rugged hills clothed in the gorgeous beauty of the au- 
tumn foliage, and the river winding like a silver thread 
through the bright coloring. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 39 

“ It must be very pleasant there, Eosamoncl, if this 
picture is a good one,” said Mr. Howard. 

“ It is, uncle ; and that road winding away up the 
hillside leads to the old farm-house where we lived before 
uncle John died.” 

“ I have always regretted, Eosamond, that I allowed 
your aunt to take you away so far from the advantages 
of life ; and I mean to make full compensation for neg- 
lected duty now that I have you with me. I think my 
dead brother would never forgive me if he knew how I 
had neglected you, and yet — ” And he thought of his 
fashionable wife, with her fine notions, and sighed. 

“ Dear uncle, did my father resemble you ? I have 
so often longed to know. Auntie has often talked 
about mamma, but she would never tell me about my 
father. She seemed to have a great dislike for him, so 
much so, she would not allow me to mention his 
name.” 

Yes, my child, he resembled me in size and height, 
but if you wish to see his face look into the first mirror 
you come near.” 

“ 0, uncle ! do I resemble him so much ? ” 

Yes, he had the same high broad brow, rich hrown 
curling hair, and blue-gray eyes, and the same sadness 


40 


ROSAMOND BOWARD. 


shadowed in his face. If he had lived, my child, he 
might have been a great artist. His was a richly en- 
dowed nature ; and if I mistake not you have inherited 
it to a great extent, Kosamond.” 

Do you think so, uncle ? ’’ Kosamond asked, with 
delight beaming on her face. 

Yes, my child ; ” and he laid his hand caressingly 
upon her shoulder and seemed lost in reverie. 

Papa, isn’t it near our lunch hour ? ” inquired 
Maude. 

Yes, ana we should be returning home.” 

With the girls on either arm, he wended his way 
homeward through the busily thronged streets — the 
passers-by making an ever varying study to Kosamond. 

Now came the gay, the young and happy, without a 
touch of care upon their unruffled brows, surrounded by 
tender, loving friends. 

F Then the sad-faced widow, her sombre, rusty garments 
telling of sorrow and poverty. 

Anon a little child, its pitiful old-young face lifted in 
pleading, the tattered dress and shoeless feet telling 
their story of want ; and Kosamand would gaze upon 
her with tear-dimmed eyes. 

Again the child of sin in her flaunting garments, de- 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 41 

spair, like a lurking demon, looking out from the depths 
of her eyes. 

On and on passed the surging crowds, misery and 
want, happiness and plenty walking side hy side, pass- 
ing and repassing. 

Maude, discerning the wistfulness of Kosamond’s face, 
said, Of what are you thinking, Rosamond ? ” 

“ I was thinking what a strange world this is.” 

But clear up your care-laden brow, Rosamond, and 
be glad your life has fallen in pleasant places. The 
Master is able to care for all.” 

I know, but I feel so sorry for them,” Rosamond 
said, with a sigh, as they ascended the steps of Mr. 
Howard’s mansion. 


42 


BOSAMOm now ABB, 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Dearly bought the hidden treasure, 

Finer feeling can bestow, 

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure 
Thrill the deepest notes of woe. — Bukns. 

Mr. Howard often brought in tickets for an opera or 
theatre, for he wished Rosamond to see all that might 
interest or please her, and he loved to watch the smiles 
chase away the shadows on her face ; loved to see her 
eyes dilate, glow with excitement as only those eyes 
will to whom pleasures are rare. 

Rosamond seemed walking in a bewildering dream the 
moment she entered a theatre. The blaze of the lights, 
the gay attire of handsome ladies, strains of delicious 
music and scenes of beauty changing place, all thrilled 
her with ecstasy. 

One night, while sitting midst it all, the scene, as if 
by magic, changed to the old rambling farm-house, and 
lo ! in the distance she was starting for school in her 
gingham sun-bonnet and calico dress, wending her way 
through the deep woods, the fragrance of its ferns 
around her, the voices of birds in the air, and the brook 
telling its story again. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


43 


A start ! a quick gasp ! and it was gone — and she was 
in the sculptured halls of pleasure, dressed in the hand- 
some attire her uncle provided her, his kind eyes smiling 
at her, and Maude’s caressing hand laid on hers. 

Was it a dream — that far away time ? or was this 
the dream — and what would the awakening he ? 

While the bewildered expression was still on her face, 
Maude said, There is Irene in that private box with 
Mrs. Golden and Mr. Earle.” 

And Kosamond gazed upon the dark, haughty beauty, 
her loveliness enhanced by her rich violet silk and rare 
jewels, receiving like a queen the homage of the young 
dark-haired man bending over her. 

“ Is not Mr. Earle fine looking, Eosamond ? Papa 
says he is destined to be one of the first men of his 
time.” 

Kosamond heard but made no reply, for she was 
watching the soft light oh Irene’s face and the look of 
admiration on his. 

Just then they discerned Kosamond, Maude and her 
father, and Mr. Earle said to Irene, “ Is not that a 
strange lady with your sister ? ” 

The soft lights died out of Irene’s face as she said. 


44 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


with a contemptuous smile, “ Yes, it is some country 
cousin papa has picked up.’^ 

There is wonderful intelligence in her face — and what 
fine looking eyes.” 

One might suppose you had fallen in love with her 
at first sight.” And a low scornful laugh greeted his 
ear. 

A quick flush spread over his face ; he made no an- 
swer, but watched with deeper interest the changing 
expressions of Kosamond’s countenance. 

A slight frown disfigured Irene’s brow as he saw her 
to her carriage and asked permission to call within a 
few days ; for of all her many admirers Mr. Earle was 
the only one who ever brought a flush to her cheek, or 
the soft light into her eyes. 

Though poor, he was slowly and surely rising in his 
profession at the bar. 

Irene felt that to be his queen was the sweetest morsel 
life could give her ; and it fired her heart with jealousy 
that he should for a moment turn his attention from her 
to her common-place cousin. 

One evening, soon after, just as the setting sun was 
tinting earth, sea and sky with its own rare colors, 
Rosamond stood near one of the western windows of the 


BOSAMOND HOWARD, 


45 


drawing room, gazing upon that beautiful sad picture 
of Beatrice Cenci. The glow of the sunset seemed to 
touch into rare beauty the sad spirituelle face, the lips 
seemed to glow with life again, and tell their story over. 
Long Bosamond gazed upon it, till the tints, so lifelike, 
faded, and the ashen hue crept back again. 

Then, taking her pencil, she wrote the following 
lines : 

BEATRICE CENCI. 


I gazed into tlie tender face, 

Into tlie dark, sad eyes, 

With eternity in their depths. 

And dreams of Paradise. 

It seemed to glow with life again. 

The pale lips tell their woes. 

How heart o’erflows with untold pain. 
And aches from unseen blows. 


I listen to the sad refrain, 

In sunset’s lingering glow. 

Gazing into the great sad eyes. 
Where the shadows come and go ; 
A soul goes out from parted lips. 
Away toward the sunset shore ; 
The last ray fades in darkening sky. 
The sorrowful tale is o’er. 


And I think of lives that echo, 

The Cenci’s plaintive moan. 

Would point them o’er the sunset sea. 
Where she long since hath flown. 


46 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


The saddened soul has found its youth 
Aglow with hfe again, 

The dark eyes shadow mystic depths, 

But never a woe or pain. 

Scarcely were they finished, when Irene and Maude 
entered the room. 

Almost immediately after, Mr. Earle was announced. 
He was most cordially greeted by them. Turning to 
Kosamond, Maude said, “ Cousin Kosamond, allow me 
to introduce Mr. Earle. Mr. Earle, Miss Howard.’’ 

“ I am very happy to make your acquaintance. Miss 
Howard ; ” and her clear gray eyes were raised to the 
dark ones looking so pleasantly at her. 

Irene might well bite her lip in vexation that evening, 
for Kosamond was looking unusually well in dark blue 
silk, a gift from her uncle, with misty laces at throat 
and wrist, her rich brown hair wreathed in soft waves 
above her high broad brow, her cheeks tinged with pink, 
and the glow of her eyes intense. 

Soon after Irene and Maude were engaged with other 
callers, and Mr. Earle availed himself of the opportunity 
to engage Kosamond in conversation. 

On every topic they touched, her clear decided views 
brought a deeper interest into his face, and for the first 
time in several months, while in the presence of Irene, 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


47 


she was wholly forgotten ; and the unconcious, common- 
place cousin was winning what Irene would have given 
her selfish life to have won. The remembrance of that 
evening, and the radiance of those blue-gray eyes raised 
so fearlessly to his will linger with him many a year. 

Irene’s pretty witcheries paled beside that delightful 
memory, and the hope of again meeting Kosamond’s sad 
face aglow with thought and noble purpose. 


CHAPTER IX. 

“ Each breath is burdened with a bidding, 

And every minute hath its mission.” 

0 Duty! how oft thy stern face peers in upon our 
delightful dreams, and thy accusing finger points out a 
path rough and jagged with stones that will pierce our 
feet. Our pleading look brings not a gleam of pity on 
thy stern countenance, but that accusing finger seems 
saying, On, on ! ” And we, conscience stricken, obey 
its mandate. 

But every time we obey and conquer the obstacles be- 
fore us, and find ourselves on the firm, even path again. 


48 


ROSAMOND SO WARD. 


away on the distant heights the star gleams nearer, and 
the faint outline of a tender face beaming down grows 
more distinct. 

Falter not, 0 ye feet, climbing the narrow, jagged 
path. Press onward, upward ! 

The next morning a telegram reached Rosamond that 
her aunt was dangerously sick, and ere noon she was far 
on her journey homeward. It was with great reluctance 
she parted from her uncle and Maude, for she had learn- 
ed to love them tenderly. 

The few months she had spent with them were the 
happiest of her life. The remembrance lingered round 
her like a bright dream, and ever out of the dreant^^. 
peered those dark eyes, looking with such deep interest 
into hers. 

How slight sometimes is the over-balance in the scale 
of fate ! 

Had she remained a few weeks longer an inmate of 
her uncle’s home what happiness might have been hers ! 
Unconscious of results, she left the brightness of noon 
to grope amid the shades of twilight. Perhaps it was 
better so ; her intense nature drank such deep draughts 
of joy or woe that in the joy she might have forgotten 
the things which she should remember. In her sorrow 


B08AM0ND EOWABD. 49 

she felt that He had removed happiness from her only 
until she should be strong enough to hear it. 

Kosamond felt more and more, as she neared the vil- 
lage of Lee, that she was going to meet sorrow and 
trouble. Yet happy lights came and went on her face, 
which had grown fairer and rounder during the months 
she had been absent, and her manner had gained a certain 
air of refinement which comes of contact with people of 
culture ; and withal, this peep into the world, brief 
though it was, had been great gain to her. 

It was at the close of a cold, rainy day in November 
that she arrived at Lee. No warm welcome awaited her, 
no kindly voice greeted her as she stepped upon the plat- 
form. As she walked through the dark streets of the 
village they seemed lonely and lifeless. After the recent 
weeks of loving care and protection she felt desolate and 
friendless, and tears sprang unbidden to her eyes, but 
dashing them away in scorn at the selfishness, she hur- 
ried on to her aunt’s cottage. 

She found her very low and unconscious with fever, 
and quickly changed her travelling suit for a bright, 
warm wrapper, and hastened to her bedside. 

Ah ! well for us all we cannot read the future. If 
Rosamond could have lifted the veil and looked adown 


50 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


the hours, the days, the months which, rank on rank, 
were marching in, she would have been frightened. 
Each hour and day brought in its burden and laid it at 
her feet, and she gathered it up and carried it on to 
meet the to-morrow, whose ever receding footsteps seem 
but the echo of to-day’s. Not always cheerfully and 
patiently did she do and endure — human nature is too 
weak for that — ^but she tried to be patient. # 

After the fever passed, Mrs. Dean lingered many 
months a hdpless invalid. Winter passed away in a 
monotonous round of duty to Eosamond, broken at 
Christmas by a present from her uncle Fred, of a choice 
selection of books and a bright cheerful letter from Maude. 
Then silence seemed to have swallowed them up, and 
they, and the happy months she spent with them, 
seemed more like a dream than the memory of a delight- 
ful reality. 

The spring and summer came and went ; and one 
beautiful evening in September, Eosamond, having a few 
moments of leisure, sat in her favorite seat on the steps 
of the cottage. 

How sad was the pale face lifted to the starlight, 
while the solemn eyes looked up, with unutterable long- 
ing in their depths, to where the crescent moon and 


nOSAMOJSTD HOWARD. 


51 


evening star hung like jewels in the midst of the great 
calm which was on the earth. As she sat there repeat- 
ing the beautiful words of Jean Paul Kichter, saying 
them over and over, half aloud, as they gave unconscious 
shape to some undefined thought, ^Hhe moon and 
evening star gleamed solitaiy, like a past, in heaven,” 
Ella’s light footstep broke upon her reverie, and all her 
hungry longing for human companionship bursted out in 
the words with which she greeted her. 

^^0, Ella ! my friend ! I am so glad, so very glad you 
came,” closely clasping her hand as if afraid of her fleeing 
away. I am growing morbid, spending so many hours 
day ofter day alone, as I might say, for auntie is not able 
to talk much, and she is slowly fading away from life. 
When I think that this past year, weary though it has 
been at times, must end with death, it seems as if my 
heart would break. Although auntie has not been as 
kind as she might have been, yet I know I shall miss 
her when she is gone, and then I shall drift, only God 
knows where.” 

Throwing a caressing arm around her, Ella said, 

Have you not heard from your cousin Maude yet ? ” 
Yes, I had a letter a few days ago, and she has been 
so deep in sorrow and through so many changes, she has 


52 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


not had thought or time to write to me before. She 
writes that uncle Fred died in the spring, leaving them 
almost penniless through the treachery of a supposed 
friend. 0, my noble, kind-hearted uncle ! how I loved 
him. She also writes that Irene married an old man for 
his money this summer, and is queening it royally in 
Europe with her old money hags, while she is teaching 
music to support herself and mother, and can barely earn 
enough to keep them together. So all hope of going to 
them is over. But a niche in God’s great plan is waiting 
for me somewhere, Ella, and He will guide my footsteps 
thither when my work is finished here.” 

Ella gazed tenderly at the sad face, down which the 
tears were streaming, while she said, Do not be so dis- 
couraged, Eosamond.” 

I am not, Ella ; I am willing to leave it all with 
Him. I must go in now, as auntie may need me. WiE 
you come in ? ” 

“Not to-night, Eosamond. Good night.” 

Eosamond listened to her receding footsteps until 
they died away in the distance, then with a deep sigh 
entered the house. 

About two months later she closed her aunt’s eyes in 
death. With a heavy heart she shut up the cottage. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


53 


and, taking the few hundred dollars her aunt left her, 
she accepted the invitation of her former schoolmate, 
Mrs. Murray, to spend a few months with her, hoping 
ere her present funds were exhausted to obtain a situa- 
tion as teacher in Burlington or elsewhere. 


CHAPTEB X. 

In our course through life, we shall meet the people who are 
coming to meet us from many strange places, and by many 
strange roads, and what it is set to them to do to us, and what it 
is set to us to do to them, will all he done . — Dickens. 

You will come down this evening, Kosamond ? ” 
And the pansy eyes of Mrs. Murray were raised to Kosa- 
mond’s face, while she laid a caressing hand upon her 
arm. 

I fear I shall not add much to the pleasure of the 
evening, if I do, Ada. Still, if you wish it I will make 
an effort. It seems almost impossible for me to regain 
my cheerful spirits since auntie died.’’ 

It is two months now, is it not, Kosamond ? I fear 
you are worrying because you do not get a situation, but 
you need not. You know we love to have you here, and 


54 


ROSAMOND BOWAUB, 


we would be glad if we might do something to cheer you. 
I shall expect you down this evening, for I wish to in- 
troduce a particular friend of my husband. No objec- 
tions, Kosamond ; I can’t stay to listen to any,” and 
with a happy smile on her face she left the room. 

Eosamond sat down by the window which overlooked 
the fine lawn of Mrs. Murray’s pleasant home, and 
watched the tinted clouds in the sunset sky until they 
faded. Lines of care had gathered on Eosamond’s face 
in the past year, and it had grown thinner and paler, 
and around the mouth patient lines had gathered, giving 
a look of sweetness to the whole face. 

No happy lights came and went on her countenance 
now, as she sat there trying to solve the problem of life. 
Hope’s witching face was veiled, and with uncertain 
hands Eosamond was groping in the darkness of the 
future. 

It galled her independent spirit to be so long depend- 
ent upon strangers, not that her present home was an 
unhappy one. She had tried, although unsuccessfully 
as yet, to procure a situation as teacher. She dreaded 
going down into the lower ranks of labor ; yet she knew 
that when the struggle should come she would go. 

The gathering darkness warned her that if she was 


ROSAMOND HOWARD . 55 

going down to the parlors to mingle with Mrs. Murray's 
guests, she must begin her toilet. 

0 how long it seemed since she had gathered with the 
gay and happy ; not since that last evening in her 
uncle’s home. As she thought of the changes since then 
the tears dimmed her eyes, and it was with a heavy heart 
she arranged her hair in waves and braids around her 
head, donned her black cashmere dress, with its snowy 
ruffles, and descended to the parlors. 

Mrs. Murray, all loveliness and grace in her dove- 
colored silk, introduced her to her many friends, among 
which she met a former schoolmate, Carrie Trueman, 
and leaving them in pleasant converse, Mrs. Murray 
went to perform other duties. After a while Carrie was 
called to the piano, and soon her rich voice filled the 
room. Kosamond listened with delight to the plaintive 
melody of a song which Maude had often sung. She 
was deep in a reverie of that far-away time which the 
song suggested, when Mrs. Murray’s voice sounded close 
to her side saying, Rosamond, allow me to introduce 
Mr. Maybee. Mr. Maybee, Miss Howard.” 

And Rosamond, raising her eyes, encountered a mis- 
chievous expression on Mrs. Murray’s face, and a pair 
of laughing blue eyes bent upon her, while the posses- 


56 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


sor, a gentleman of pleasing appearance, stood before 
her. 

Why so thoughtlessly bring human souls together ; 
or is there a destiny, silently, link by link, connecting 
our lives with the unknown, over which human effort 
has no control ? Be it as it may, it is hid from us, even 
as it was hid from Eosamond, that this man, who stood 
in smiling grace before her, was to make yet more de- 
vious the paths wherein she walked. 

He seated himself by her side, and they were soon en- 
gaged in conversation. As Eosamond became interested, 
the anxious care-worn expression faded, and the olden 
glow crept into her eyes, and soft tints into her cheeks. 

Mrs. Murray delighted with her stratagem, pointed 
them out to her husband with a low laugh. 

• Mr. Murray, laying a caressing hand on her soft blonde 
hair, while looking fondly at her, said, Ah ! my pansy- 
eyed darling ! how do you know but you have started a 
game of mischief which will end in sorrow to one or both 
of those persons yonder ? ” 

‘‘Not if they marry and are as happy as we are, dear 
Will.” 

“ Yery true ; but Jack Maybee has been paying at- 
tention to Lucy Winters, of Great Barrington, for some 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 57 

time past, although. I am not aware that they are en- 
gaged. Perhaps it would be as well not to meddle.” 

“ By no means, my dear sir,” she replied, with a gay 
laugh. “ If one may judge from their first acquaintance 
meddling would he of small avail, and I know Kosa- 
mond too well to lisp a word to her. I am only too glad 
to see her face brighten again, and as this may be a false 
rumor, it would be cruel to mar her pleasure with it.” 

“All is fair in love and war,” her husband laughingly 
said ; and then he turned to a group who came up to 
make their adieus. 

Meanwhile, Jack Maybee, with the consciousness 
of having spent an unusually pleasant evening, bade 
Kosamond “good night” with reluctance, and accepted 
the gracious invitation of Mrs. Murray to call fre- 
quently. 

Kosamond was surprised to find herself occasionally, 
for several days afterward, dreaming of a pair of blue 
eyes full of sunshine. 

One beautiful moonlight evening, soon after, a carriage 
and span of handsome bays drove up to the door, and 
the possessor of said blue eyes requested the pleasure of 
her company for a drive. Kosamond accepted. 

It soon became currently acknowledged that Jack 


58 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


Maybee should be Kosamond’s escort on all occasions ; 
and a look of happiness crept into her eyes, while her 
face became fairer and rounder, and her laugh rung out 
joyously again. 

The subtle workings of the human heart are past find- 
ing out. 

It was all as much of a surprise to Rosamond as to 
others. She would not acknowledge to herself that his 
going or coming had any deeper interest for her than or- 
dinary friendship. 

How barren her life had been of youthful pleasures, 
with which so many young lives are satiated. Was it 
any wonder that the attentions of this young gentleman 
should have been very gratifying to her. 

He possessed many pleasing qualities, and gave prom- 
ise of attaining position and wealth in his vocation. 

It was very evident that he was deeply in love with 
Rosamond. Still no word of love ever passed his lips. 
Rosamond often encountered his eyes resting upon her, 
as if in sorrowful regret, when he would abruptly leave 
the room, and often they would not meet again for a 
week. Then, with all his former devotion, he would 
return to her side. 

Thus several months went by, and then his business 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


59 


called him to a distant part of the State. Externally it 
was hut an ordinary leave taking when they parted ; hut 
to those two lives that last hand-clasp was like wrench- 
ing heartstrings asunder. For some moments afterward 
Eosamond felt stunned, bewildered ; then, thinking of 
the curious eyes upon her, she recovered her failing 
spirits, and with eyes heavy with unshed tears, with a 
wonder and pain at her heart, she rejoined Mr. and Mrs. 
Murray. 


CHAPTEE XL 

And therefore my heart is heavy 
With a sense of unquiet pain, 

For but Heaven can tell if the parted 
Shall meet on the earth again. 

With Him be the time and the season 
Of our meeting again with thee ! 

Whether here, on these earthly borders, 

Or the shore of the world to be. — Gaby. 

Eosamond continued her search for employment. 
Having given up all hope of obtaining a situation as 
teacher, she next made an effort to obtain a clerkship, 
for she knew she must have work, active, absorbing 
work, to regain her tranquillity of mind. But in this, 
too, she was unsuccessful. 


60 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


One evening Mrs. Murray had several young friends 
to tea, and among them a stranger from Great Bar- 
rington. 

During their merry chat at the tea-table, this lady 
turned to Mrs. Murray with the inquiry, I believe you 
are acquainted with Jack Maybee, Mrs. Murray ? ” 

Yes, he is a friend of my husband.” 

“ Do you know he is to be married this fall to a young 
lady of Great Barrington ? ” 

‘^No, I had not heard so,” replied Mrs. Murray, and 
quickly glanced at Rosamond, with some apprehension. 

There was a look of painful surprise on Rosamond’s 
face, and the china cup which she had half raised to her 
lips at the moment, fell with a crash from her nerveless 
fingers. But hastily regaining her self-possession, and 
with a word of apology, she arose and left the room. 

‘^Oh, Mrs. Murray, what blunder have I commit- 
ted ? ” 

None that I know of,” she replied, assuming an in- 
different tone in order to shield Rosamond. My friend 
has been very nervous since the death of her relatives,” 
and Mrs. Murray turned the conversation upon other 
subjects. 

About two weeks later Rosamond was prostrated 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


61 


with fever ; but through the kind, sisterly care of Mrs. 
Murray, and the skill of the physician, she soon rallied, 
and in a few weeks was able to be around again, hut it 
was a long time ere she recovered her former health. 

She accepted a clerkship offered her about this time, 
hut remained an inmate of Mrs. Murray’s home. 

Several months this routine of duty continued and she 
was fast regaining her peace of mind, if not happiness, 
when one evening J ack Mayhee was announced. 

Kosamond received him with her former kindness, yet 
with a certain reserve in her manner, which he did not 
seem to heed, hut took up the acquaintance where he 
left it several months before. 

Kosamond would have gladly sought an explanation, 
hut as no word of love had ever passed his lips she could 
not. 

At Christmas Kosamond received a handsome present 
from Jack Mayhee, and an occasional letter found its 
way to her. 

She accepted them all, as she did not wish to offend 
him ; and as no marriage had taken place as predicted, 
she began to hope there was no truth in the rumor. 

Another year went hy, and Kosamond found peace 
and hope in reading nature’s ever open page ; otherwise 


62 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


her life would have been monotonous indeed, for her 
health would not permit her to mingle often in amuse- 
ments or social pleasures after her daily duties at the 
store. 

. Jack Maybee always called when he came in town. 
From their increasing friendship gossip predicted mar- 
riage, while the happy lights began to creep back into 
Eosamond’s face. 

) One evening, late in the autumn, he was announced, 
and Eosamond looking unusually well in dark blue silk, 
greeted him with somewhat of the olden warmth in her 
manner. 

She noticed his face was thinner and more care worn 
than she had ever seen it, and an occasional cough inter- 
rupted their conversation. He told her he thought of 
going South during the coming winter that he might 
recover from it. Finally he arose and bade her ‘^good 
night” and good-bye.” And so they parted. 

^ Mrs. Murray noticed the radiance that lingered on 
Eosamond’s face for days after, and sincerely hoped that 
her first and only stratagem of the kind might yet end 
well. 

One morning, when the winter’s snows lay pile on 
pile upon the earth, wrapping it close in their cold 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


63 


shroud, while the icy breath of the northern winds 
touched all with the delicate frost-work of their frozen 
clime, the pale beams of the winter sun stole in through 
the shutters of Kosamond’s room, and aroused her from 
sleep, and she awoke with a vague consciousness of un- 
utterable sorrow resting upon her spirits, and the re- 
membrance of a vision of a long untravelled road before 
her, and away in the distance the domes and pinnacles 
of a New Jerusalem glistening in the morning sun. 

Often during the day her thoughts returned in wonder 
to that strange feeling of the morning. 

That evening Mrs. Murray noticed that the book Kos- 
amond held fell more than once from her hands, as if 
unheeded ; and an unwonted, wistful look had stole into 
her face. Mr. Murray came in and playfully threw a 
paper, which he had received at the post ofS.ce, into 
Eosamond’s lap, which she received with a smile, and, 
after a few moments, leisurely opened. 

Like a meteor flashing upon our wondering eyes, filling 
us with terror and affright, while gazing upon the track- 
less plains of the starry realms, does misfortune or 
sorrow often come upon us. 

Eosamond carelessly, listlessly looking over the paper, 
with a half smile on her face^ because it came from the 


64 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


town where Jack Maybee had located his business, ran 
her eye over the marriage items and deaths, and cried, 
‘^Oh ! Ada ! Ada ! Jack Maybee is dead ! ’’ 

With an expression sadder than tears in her eyes, a 
stunned, deathless feeling about her heart, Kosamond 
arose with tottering feet, went to her room, and securely 
locking the door, struggled with the flood- tides of sorrow 
that surged around her. 

Yet even in this deep darkness the exultant cry went 
out from her heart, Mine now, all mine.” 

Yes, whatever ties had bound him while on earth, 
which he had never broken in word, if he had in deed, 
he was hers now, hers through the eternal years of God. 


CHAPTEK XIL 

“ Ah, yes ! when we drink from the river of life, 

Where the songs of the angels swell, 

When we meet with the loved and lost of earth. 

We shall murmur no more. Farewell I ” 

Two weeks before Kosamond read of Jack Maybee’s 
death, a steamer was coursing its way along the Atlan- 
tic coast, leaving the snow-clad hills of the North and 
its ice-bound rivers and chilly breezes far in its wake. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 65 

As its glistening prow cleaved the waters, day by day it 
neared its destined port in the balmy South. 

To the invalid on board it seemed as if a new world 
was breaking upon his view, and a new life quickening 
the sluggish life-streams that had run so low. 

With a pleasure too deep for words, the brother bend- 
ing tenderly over him, watched the glow of health creep 
into his cheek, watched the blue eyes brighten with their 
olden sunshine, heard his merry laugh ring out again as 
he related some of their boyhood’s exploits. Then that 
harsh cough would sweep over him like a tempest in its 
wrath, leaving him pale and exhausted for hours after. 

Evening after evening, those two men, wrapped in 
their heavy cloaks, one so tenderly devoted to the other, 
sat or reclined on the heaving deck ; one gazing away 
into the misty starlight, wondering if it would be long 
ere his soul would be climbing their mystic heights. 

Then the scene would change to a pleasantly ap- 
pointed room in the city of Burlington, and the radiance 
of deep blue-gray eyes looking out of a sad face seemed 
raised in their clear, fearless look to his. A smile lin- 
gered round his lips ; while the vision of a pleasant 
home, not located as yet, came before his mind’s eye, and 
she, the guiding-star of his life, filled it with her pres- 


66 


BOSAMOND HOWARD. 


ence. Then a great longing would come over him to live 
and carve his way to fortune, as had been his aim for 
many a year. Perchance, the vision of a sorrowful- 
faced maiden, treading her life-path alone, came before 
him, too, at times ; if so he quickly dismissed it. 

The other seemed to have no thought or purpose in 
life but to watch the pale, emaciated face before him. 
His strong arm was ever ready to support the tottering 
feet ; his hands to gather the folds of the cloak more 
closely ; and his form broke the force of the breeze that 
it might not blow too roughly upon him. His the 
warning voice that beguiled him from the evening air ; 
his the hand, tender as a mother’s, that adjusted his, pil- 
low, and left him not until the pale eyelids were closed 
in slumber. 

When the first rays of the morning sun broke over the 
blue waste of waters he arose, and with alacrity per- 
formed the same duties, day after day, with untiring 
patience, until the flowery banks of Florida’s sunny 
shore broke upon their vision. 

The invalid began to fail again as soon as he left the 
steamer. 

A chill of dread began to creep around the heart of 
that devoted brother, as the pale face he had watched so 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 07 

tenderly became paler, the sunken eyes more sunken, 
and the exhausting cough more violent. 

One morning, after they had been a few days on shore, 
the invalid reclining upon a couch with his head raised 
so that he could look out on the glowing landscape, 
touched his brother who sat by his side with his thin 
nerveless hand and said, It is almost over with me, 
Arthur.” 

An icy hand seemed to clutch the brother’s heart as 
he heard the words, but he rallied his spirits and said 
cheerfully, Don’t be discouraged. Jack, we shall live to 
be gray-haired men together yet.” 

The invalid shook his head saying, No, do not de- 
ceive yourself, Arthur. I am sorry to pain you, but 
when the night comes again I shall be dead.” 

Arthur veiled his face with his hands to hide the deep 
emotion written upon his countenance ; and the invalid 
continued, I have two requests to make of you, Arthur, 
and I know you will grant them ; one is, to send word 
of my death to Will Murray,” and a spasm of agony 
passed over his face as he thought of Kosamond ; then he 
resumed. The other is, to bury this poor worn out 
frame in the village church-yard beside father and mo- 
ther. Is it asking too much, Arthur ? ” 


68 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


no ! 0, Jack ! Jack ! how can I have it so !” 

cried Arthur, for a moment losing control of his feelings. 

Hush, Arthur ! I am so sorry to leave you, sorry 
to leave life with so little accomplished. But Grod wills 
it so, and perhaps it is all for the best. I try to think so, 
Arthur,” and his voice died away in a whisper, and over- 
come by the exhaustion of talking, in a little while he 
he fell asleep. 

Hour after hour the brother watched that face more 
closely, observing every change. 

At noon the invalid seemed to rally somewhat, but 
when the sun began to decline, he knew the words Jack 
had spoken in the morning were true. When the set- 
ting sun reached the horizon and had almost disappeared 
behind the distant treetops, his dying rays lingering as 
if in good-night caresses upon sea, sky and woodland, 
the watchful brother observed the invalid’s eyelids flut- 
ter, open, but the sunshine was fading from the eyes, 
even as it was fading in the western sky. 

A low whisper came to his ear. 

^^Good — ^bye — Arthur — God — bless — you;” and the 
brother was alone with only the moan of the sea breaking 
upon his sorrow. 

A few days later a funeral cortege wended its way 


BOSAMOND HOWARD. 


69 


through the northern winter’s snow, and the earthly ten- 
ement of Jack Maybee was laid beneath it. But the 
influence of his life will linger around some souls 
forever. 

Think ye, 0 careless ones ! you can live for naught ? 
Nay, I tell you, the influence of your lives will circle 
across some hearts for good or ill, to the remotest shores 
of eternity ; even as a pebble thrown into a lake will 
circle to the distant shores. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

“ And I smiled to think of God’s greatness 
Flowed round our incompleteness, 

Round our restlessness His rest.” — Mrs. Browning. 

Rosamond performed her accustomed duties day after 
day, and but few knew or guessed the anguish of her 
heart. Disease had long been watching her like a bird 
of prey, and took advantage of her drooping spirits to 
pounce upon her. The business firm with which she 
was engaged as clerk were failing, and steady employ- 
ment was taken from her, so she had not even that to 
divert her mind from her sorrow. 


70 


ROSAMON'D HOWARD. 


Mrs. Murray most sorrowfully, and with a pang of re- 
gret, noticed the pale face grow paler and sadder, and 
the solemn eyes grow larger. Perhaps if Kosamond had 
been in her former health she would not have given 
away so to her sorrow, but as ifc was it seemed to wrap 
her like a dark mantle in its sombre folds. 

Mr. and Mrs. Murray tried to rouse her to the simple 
interests of life again, but her joyous laugh or gay repar- 
tee never answered their pleasant sallies now. Only after 
one of her long, lonely walks, which had always been one 
of the delights of her life, did her face seem to brighten. 

Several months went by. Still Rosamond’s slight form 
was seen on her lonely walks, and her place was seldom 
vacant at the table. 

During the July heats, Mrs. Murray was stricken 
down with typhoid fever, and after six weeks of weary 
suffering she began to mend. Not gaining strength as 
fast as she should, the physician thought best for her 
to try the sea shore, and prevailing on Rosamond to ac- 
company her as friend and companion, they departed. 

One dream, one intense longing of Rosamond’s life 
was realized when she stood on the shore of the sea, its 
silvery tide washing up at her feet. Her eyes glowed 
with joy as she stood gazing enraptured upon its blue- 


nOSAMOND HOWARD, 71 

green waves stretching away as far as her eye could 
reach, dotted here and there with gleaming sails. 

She never tired of the changing scene, or invigorating 
sea breeze, and every morning the passers-by saw on the 
beach the pale, sad-faced girl standing beside the low 
easy chair of her. invalid companion, gazing with delight 
upon the water. ^ 

To Kosamond it was slowly but surely bringing re- 
newed strength and health. The thin face began to 
look rounder ; the rose tints of the shells she loved so 
well to gather, began to tinge her cheeks and lips. 

But it seemed to bring no change to Mrs. Murray, yet 
she loved to watch its dashing waves ; and its cooling 
breath upon her brow seemed like the caress of unseen 
hands. Bosamond often looked at her with wistful eyes, 
and wondered why one so full of life and gaiety, sur- 
rounded by loving care and tenderness, should bo a help- 
less invalid slowly drifting away from earth, while she, 
with returning health and vigor, must walk on. 

Eosamond noticed for several days after, a drooping 
look on the face of Mrs. Murray ; and one morning while 
on the shore with her as usual, and gathering shells a 
few steps distant, she beckoned Eosamond to her side. 
Taking her face between her hands in her own caressing 


72 


BOSAMOND HOWARD, 


fashion, she said, How glad, how very glad I am, Eosa- 
mond, to see your face brightening with health and hope 
again.” Eosamond smiled, but made no reply ; and Mrs. 
Murray resumed. 

thought once I never should forgive myself for 
being the means of bringing such sorrow upon you, and 
it is my last stratagem of that kind.” 

Perhaps it was for the best, Ada, after all.” 

Do you think so, dear ? I wish I could see it so.” 

It has, at least, been the means of my finding my 
life work.” 

“ How so, Eosamond ? ” 

I have determined to cultivate my one talent.” 

Oh, Eosamond, I am so glad to hear it ; and write a 
book, do, dear. I know you are fully capable, and fill it 
with thoughts that will be like balm to the weary hearts 
of the world.” 

Eosamond, wondering what Mrs. Murray could know 
of weary hearts, said, I mean to try, Ada.” 

“ Do, Eosamond, and perhaps earn a living, for after 
I am gone you will be homeless again, dear,” and the 
pansy eyes filled with tears. 

This was the first time Eosamond had heard Mrs. 


EOSAMOITD HOWARD, 73 

Murray talk of dying, and with a pang of sorrow she. 
said, ‘‘ Why Ada, you will get well ! ” 

No, Bosamond, and I have called you to me to tell 
you if you were ready, I should like to go home to- 
morrow.” 

By all means, my friend, I will make arrangements 
as soon as we return to the house.” 

That evening Rosamond went out to her favorite seat 
on the rocks, and bade farewell to the sea, for they were 
to leave on the early morning train. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

“We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust. 

When the morning calls us to life and light ; 

But our hearts grow weary, and ere the night. 

Our lives are trailing the sordid dust.” 

You will stay with me, Rosamond, until all is over ; 
it will not be long, dear.” 

Rosamond looked into the pleading face, into the pan- 
sy eyes, solemn with holy light, at the slight form, and 
thin, transparent hand laid so carressingly on hers, and 
could not say no. 


74 


EOSAMOITD HOWARD. 


So she watched over her friend with untiring care. 
One morning in the frost-bound month of J anuary, the 
death angel came, and the soul that had known so little 
of the sorrows or troubles of earth, supported by angel 
hands, went out to meet the dawn, with the same bright, 
glad look on her face, and the same joyful smile on her 
lips with which she had received the blessings of earth. 

Soon after, the desolate husband closed the pleasant 
home, so full of bright and sad memories, and became a 
wanderer in foreign lands. 

Kosamond, so fond of home ties, of human companion- 
ship, and of social life, took up her life work alone? 
hoping to find contentment and peace, if not happiness, 
in its performance. 

In her simple, plainly furnished room, where the smil- 
ing stars looked in all through the solemn night, where 
her eyes could rove at will over the tops of houses, and 
rest on the distant mountain-tops clad in winter’s snow 
or summer’s verdure, where the din of the noisy world, 
with its joy and woe, came softened to her ears, Eosa- 
mond earned a scanty subsistence with her needle. All 
of her leisure she spent in study, or with her pen. Her 
only recreation was a solitary walk at early morning, or 
in the twilight. 


ROSAMOND EDWARD, 


75 


Thus time passed on, and Eosamond saw the snows 
of winter pass away, and the distant mountain-tops 
crowned with the golden green of spring, and change to 
the deeper foliage of summer, then aflame with the gor- 
geous hues of autumn. But her untiring pen rested not, 
her courage seldom faltered, and when the New Year’s 
bells rang out their chimes, her first book had been given 
to the world, full of balm for the weary ones of earth, 
even as her friend had wished. 

Eosamond never forgot that New Year’s day, for it 
seemed as if a new era in her life dawned with it. 

All that day the gladness never died out of her face, 
and with renewed courage and deeper inspiration she 
took up her pen again. 


CHAPTEE XY. 


So we’ll not dream, nor look back, dear, 

But march right on, content and bold, 

To where our life sets heavenly clear. 

Westward, behind the hills of gold,” 

Several years went by, and Eosamond had given 
other books to the world, which were received gladly. 


76 B08AM0ITD HOWARD, 

And into her life and face had crept peace and glad- 
ness. 

With regret she left the room where her first work 
had been given to the world, where she had strug- 
gled and labored so many years, and removed to a 
handsome cottage in one of the pleasantest locations of 
the city. 

With keen pleasure Rosamond roamed from room to 
room, after she had completed its furnishing. 

I True, no costly upholstery, no gems of art or rare 
statuary, no frescoed walls or rich carpets greeted her 
eye, but the pleasant, comfortably furnished rooms were 
arranged with the exquisite taste and delicate touch of 
artistic fancy. Her favorite room was the cosy library, 
with its handsome book-case and fine selection of books. 
Here she gathered her mementoes of other days, and her 
choicest pictures, and placed her writing-desk so she 
could look out at will through the low French windows, 
into her beautiful flower garden, where the air was 
ladened with delicate perfumes. And after all was 
completed to her satisfaction, she penned Ella San- 
ford, a note saying : 

Dear Friend : 

i The home I had in anticipation when I wrote yon last is 
completed, and the first guest I wish to welcome within its walls 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


77 


is the friend of my early youth. You will not refuse to come — 
it would cruelly disappoint me. So write me, dear friend, at the 
earliest opportunity when I may expect you. 

Eosamono. 

The happy lights came and went on Kosamond’s face 
as of yore. Although the bloom of youth had faded, 
never to return, still a rarer charm lingered upon the 
sweet countenance, and the blue-gray eyes were filled 
with a deeper light. Ella Sanford accepted Kosamond’s 
urgent invitation, and found her surrounded by her flow- 
ers, her birds, her books and pleasant occupations. 

Ella, wearied with home cares of many years, yet with 
the same dreamy smile on lip and brow, the same far- 
away look in her eyes, found rest in Kosamond’s pleasant 
home. 

One evening, when the June twilight was creeping 
over the earth in warning of the coming night, Kosa- 
mond, seated at the western window of the cosy library, 
watching the fading light, was deep in a reverie of other 
days. The tender notes of an old song played by the 
softened touch of Ella’s dreamy fancy stole in from the 
adjacent room. It filled her heart with sad yearnings. 
At last, the low dreamy notes died away, and Ella laid 
a caressing hand on Kosamond’s brow, saying, Why 
these tears, Kosamond ? ” 


78 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


^ Was I crying, Ella ? I did not know. Never mind 
me, my friend, I have many moods, as you have perceived 
ere this, no doubt. Does it seem twelve years to you, 
Ella, since we were young girls in all the pride of long 
dresses and beaux ? and how well I remember my first 
party.” 

No, I cannot realize that it is so long, Kosamond ; ” 
and Ella seated herself in a low chair by Eosamond’s 
side. 

Yet it is, Ella ; and while you were playing I lived 
it all over briefly, and there isn’t a week I should care 
to live over again.” 

Yet, Eosamond, you have done what few women 
can do by unaided efibrt ; built a home and happiness 
for yourself. With the rewards of labor around you, 
you ought to be very happy, Eosamond.” 

So I am, Ella* I should be one of the most un- 
grateful of human beings if I were not. But you know 
the human heart is never satisfied. If I could keep you 
with me as friend and companion, I almost believe I 
should be.” 

But that cannot be, Eosamond. I have enjoyed my 
visit here, but still I shall be glad to return home and 
take up the role of duty again.” 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


79 


Do you intend to wear out your life there, Ella ? 

Perhaps ; I do not know what the years may bring ; ” 
and her eyes wandered out on the darkening* landscape, 
and a happy light was in their depths as if a beautiful 
vision of the future were looming up mid the darkness. 

‘^Do you ever hear from your cousin, Maude How- 
ard ? ” Ella asked one day. 

“No, I have not since she wrote me the fall auntie 
died. I answered her letter, hut never received a reply. 
I have often thought of her, and her rare beauty. She 
had golden wavy hair, blue eyes, and perfect features, 
like some rare painting of the old masters, and was also 
tender hearted and good. I am very sorry I have lost 
trace of her. Irene was beautiful, too, hut a great con- 
trast to Maude, with her olive complexion, dusky hair, 
dark eyes and haughty pride ! ’’ 

“Why don’t you write to New York You might 
possibly discover their whereabouts.” 

“ I think I will. Did I ever tell you, Ella, that my 
father was an artist ? ” 

“No, I do not remember that you did.” 

“ Uncle Fred told me, when I was visiting there. How 
I should have liked to have seen his pictures, but uncle 
Fred did not seem to know what became of them.” 


80 


ROSAMOND EOWAMD. 


Ella Sanford remained about a month with Eosamond, 
then bade her good-bye, and returned to her home. 

Eosamond was very lonely after her departure, but 
other friends soon gathered around her, and she became 
reconciled. 


CHAPTEE XYL 

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever. 

Do noble things, not dream them all day long. 

So making life, death, and that vast forever, 

One grand, sweet song / ” 

Among the youthful friends who gathered around 
Eosamond, there was one she always welcomed with 
keen pleasure ; Carrie Stephens, a girl of some twenty 
summers, and of rare sweetness of disposition. You had 
only to look into the smiling dark blue eyes, at the 
broad, unruffled brow from which the dark brown hair 
rippled in natural waves ; at the sweet mouth, the ruby 
lips, ever ready with smile and pleasant greeting for rich 
and poor, for the fortunate and unfortunate, to love her. 
Surrounded by wealth, adoring friends and indulgent 
parents, she still was an unspoilt, winsome child of 
nature. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


81 


Can you blame Rosamond for loving her ? Often her 
pony phaeton stopped at Rosamond’s door, and with joy- 
ous laugh and merry repartee, or talking of the deep 
things of life and eternity, which always entered natu- 
rally into Rosamond’s conversation, the two spent many 
a delightful hour together. 

One morning, while Rosamond was traversing the walk 
which led to her cottage, her hands loaded with moss 
and ferns, she met a little fair-haired, bright-eyed boy 
of some four years of age, running toward her and ex- 
claiming, Oh, auntie Rosamon’ ! mamma and I have 
come ! ” 

Rosamond, with a smile and caress, said, Mamma 
and you have come, have you ? ” 

Yes,” he said with childish nonchalance. 

Rosamond entered the parlor and cordially greeted 
Mrs. Munson, the lady whom she met during those 
years of poverty and struggle, and whose sympathy and 
cheering words had often fallen like balm upon her des- 
olate heart. 

She was a small, dark-haired woman, of pretty 
piquant face and winning grace of manners, and her fine 
soprano voice often filled Rosamond’s home with melody. 


82 nOSAMOND HOWARD. 

and chased away the sadness that lingered at times, even 
now. 

Mrs. Munson greeted Eosamond with her usual 
warmth of manner, saying, I thought Miss Sanford 
was with you.” 

^‘No, she returned home a week ago. I could not 
persuade her to remain longer. I have been out riding 
with Carrie Stephens this morning ; but remove your 
hat, and spend the day with me.” 

Do, mamma,” said little Mortie, and they remained. 

Eosamond and Mrs. Munson were soon disturbed in 
their pleasant conversation by little Mortie’s chirping 
voice. 

See, auntie Eosamon’,” and he held up a letter 
which the servant had carelessly left on the parlor table. 

Eosamond glanced at the unfamiliar handwriting with 
some curiosity, noticed it was post-marked New York, 
then laid it aside, and little Mortie, unperceived, with a 
mischievous smile on his face, hid it in the deep folds of 
the window curtain, and for weeks it was forgotten and 
unread.’ That letter contained news which would bring 
a flush of pleasure to Eosamond’s face, and was a fore- 
runner of bright and happy days, such as she had not 
dreamed of for many a year ; yet it lay unheeded for 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


83 


weeks in its quiet nook mid the folds of the parlor cur- 
tain. The housemaid at last discovered it, and laid it 
on Bosamond’s writing-desk, and Bosamond, with won- 
der and regret that it had been so long mislaid, perused 
its contents. 


CHAPTEB XYII. 

They tell ns oft of the beautiful 
That dwells in woman’s face ; 

Of the soul-lit eye and fairy form, 

The poetry of grace. 

But vain, I fear, are love’s fondest words. 

Sweet girl, to tell of thee ; 

As pure, as heavenly, beautiful 
As poet’s dream could be. — Month avilijE. 

The June sun rose from his rose-hued, golden couch 
in the east, and as he traversed the trackless depths of 
the azure sky, the earth smiled in welcome. His golden 
rays touched into rainbow hues the crystal drops of the 
limpid fountain that graced the lawn of Mr. Bivers’ 
home, a few miles from New York, on the banks of the 
Hudson. The flowers, fresh from their bath in the 
morning dews, in coquettish grace shook out their dew- 


84 


BOSAMOND HOWARD, 


gemmed robes, fragrant with perfumes, and returned the 
greeting of the king of day. Birds peeped out of their 
dewy nests and trilled their morning songs until the 
air was filled with harmony. The -ZEolian harp attuned 
by unseen fingers, lingered in low-toned melody upon the 
breeze. 

The mansion which rose up midst this beautiful 
Eden, like a castle of modern structure, was soon astir 
with life, and the joyous laugh and merry voices of chil- 
dren floated out upon the balmy morning air. They 
soon appear on the broad verandah, a dark-haired, bright- 
eyed boy, and a sunny-tressed, blue-eyed little girl, 
clinging to either hand of a young and lovely woman, 
the golden hair waving back from the sweet face, a face 
where time has left but a faint trace of his presence. It 
is Mrs. Eivers, once the winsome Maude Howard, whom 
Rosamond loved so well in that far-away time. With 
a smile on her lips she is bidding adieu to the fine look- 
ing man she calls husband, who is about starting for the 
city. 

“ And, Charlie, bring home some new books when you 
return this evening.” 

Yes ; good-bye,” and the handsome grays, pawing 
the gravelled road with impatient hoof, sped away. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


85 


Club rooms have lost all attraction for gifted Charlie 
Kivers since sweet Maude Howard consented to be his 
wife. 

When the evening shadows began to darken the earth 
and the busy cares of the day were ended, he remem- 
bered her request for new books, and entering a book- 
store he selected several highly recommended by the 
clerk, and then left for home. 

Charlie Kivers had known Maude in her father’s pros- 
perous days, had often called at the Howard mansion, 
and was just becoming interested in the golden-haired, 
sweet-faced girl when the change came into her life. 
He had lost all trace of her for several years, but one 
day he accidentally met her on the steps of a friend’s 
house, where she gave music lessons. He renewed his 
acquaintance, and would not take no for an answer. 
A few weeks after she became his wife. 

The gray horses seemed to travel with winged feet 
over the few miles that intervened between the city and 
the Kivers mansion, and he was soon in the cosy parlor, 
contentment on his face and luxury around him. 
Maude was seated near, looking over the books he had 
brought her. She glanced at the rich binding, then at 
the title page of the first that came to hand and read. 


86 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


Margaret, by Rosamond Howard, of Burlington, New 
York.’^ 

With astonishment upon her face she exclaimed, 
“Why, Charlie ! can it be possible ! ” 

“I couldn’t say I’m sure, love,” he said, with a 
smile. 

She made no reply, but eagerly scanned the pages be- 
fore her. Not having woman’s much abused curiosity 
he did not interrupt her, but she soon said, “ Charlie, 
do you remember my cousin Rosamond Howard, who 
visited us the year before papa died ? ” 

“No, I do not ; but I have heard you speak of her.” 

“Yes ; well, yet it does not seem possible !” 

“What does not seem possible Maude curiosity 
getting the better of him. 

“ The name of the author of these books is Rosamond 
Howard. Do you think it possible that it can be my 
cousin, Charlie ? ” 

“ Stranger things have happened.” 

“ Very true, Charlie ! I wrote to the village of Lee 
several years ago, hoping to get some trace of her, but 
never received an answer. I believe I will write to Bur- 
lington to-morrow morning, and find out if it is Rosa- 
mond.” 


BOSAMOND HOWARD. 87 

I would Maude, and invite her to spend the summer 
here.” 

Sol will, Charlie!” 

And the following morning the letter was penned, 
which had been so ‘carelessly thrown aside unread, and 
forgotten, for several weeks in Kosamond’s home. 

Maude impatiently Waited for an answer to her letter, 
and had almost given up aU hope of hearing from Kosa- 
mond. One evening, in the early part of September, she 
was on the veranda with Irene, now the rich and beau- 
tiful widow, Mrs. Mortimer, waiting as usual for her 
husband’s return from the city. 

In due time the ringing hoofs of the grays greeted 
her ear and he was soon seated by her side, and tossed a 
letter into her lap with a peculiar smile upon his face, 
but made no remark. 

Maude observed it was post marked Burlington, and 
eagerly opened and read it, then turning to Irene she 
said, “ Irene, do you remember cousin Kosamond, who 
visited us before papa died ? ” 

Yes,” she answered in indifferent tones. 

This letter is from her, and she is author of those 
books in which you have been so deeply interested the 
last few weeks.” 


88 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


Indeed and a contemptous smile curled her lip as 
she thought of the quiet, sad-faced girl, who had uncon- 
sciously frustrated her choicest plans. To her she attrib- 
uted the blame of her marrying a disagreeable old man 
for his money. She had dragged out a miserable exis- 
tence of several years duration in a foreign land, a slave 
to his whims and fancies, that he might at his death 
leave her his fortune. 

Will she accept your invitation Maude ? ” Mr. 
Rivers asked. 

“ No. She says it is impossible this season, as her 
time will be fully occupied until far into the winter. 
My letter was accidentally mislaid, or she might have 
spent a part of the summer with us, but hopes to do so 
next year. How I wish she could have come this fall,” 
she continued, with regret in her tones. 

It is just as well,” said Irene, with impatient voice, 
thinking of a certain dark-haired man, now one of the 
leading lawyers of New York, whom she hoped to enthrall 
with her charms during the coming winter ; and she did 
not care to have again for a rival the quiet, common- 
place cousin. 

Ah ! Irene Mortimer ! Look well to your charms. 
Though in all the glory of matured beauty, they may 


ROSAMOND MO WARD. 


89 


not compare in the eyes of the man, you would have 
bow in homage at your feet, with some sweet face which 
may confront you in his presence. 


OHAPTEB XVIII. 

“ And she may be humble or proud, my lady, 

Or that sweet calm which is just between. 

But, whenever she comes, she will find me read: • 

To do her homage, my queen, my queen ! 

But she must be courteous, she must be holy, 

Pure in spirit, that maiden I love ; 

Whether her birth be noble or lowly, 

I care no more than the spirit above.” 

The autumn and winter had passed away in a round 
of pleasant duty to Kosamond, for when the spring time 
would come again, a book of two volumes of hers had 
been announced for publication, after which she hoped 
to rest from her arduous work a few months. 

Many cheerful and pleasant friends now relieved the 
monotony of her life, and among the new ones she met 
during that last winter she was to spend in Burlington, 
was Fannie Parker, a tall, stylish girl, with dark brown 
eyes, full of witcheries for many hearts. She was a girl 


90 


ROSAMOND MOWARD. 


of many charming and brilliant qualities, and had Eosa- 
mond been poor and unknown, as in the years that were 
past, and had circumstances brought them in contact, 
no hand would have been more ready to help the strug- 
gling child upward. She helped to cheer many a long 
winter evening that otherwise might have been lonely to 
Eosamond. 

After Eosamond’s winter’s work was accomplished, 
and the waiting world appeased for the present, and 
spring had flung out her banners of green, gemmed with 
flowers, she began to make preparations to spend several 
months with Maude, in her beautiful home on the Hud- 
son. 

One bright morning in early J une she bade her many 
Burlington friends adieu, and started on her journey. 
How much it reminded her of a journey taken some 
twelve years before, when she went to visit her uncle in 
New York. Could that little quiet maiden, in its simple 
travelling suit, with the strange sadness in her face, with 
earnest eyes looking with enraptured vision upon the 
world, be the same person that now, in her stylish 
though plain travelling attire, and dark hat with its 
drooping plumes, look elegant and grand enough to 
suit the fastidious taste of Irene Mortimer ? 


BOSAMOND HOWARD. 


91 


True, the sadness yet lingered upon her face. But a 
contented happy heart smiled around her lips and 
looked out of the unfathomable depths of her dark-gray 
eyes. And it was a fair, noble looking woman that 
greeted golden-haired Maude in her beautiful home that 
evening. 

When Kosamond, refreshed from her journey, re- 
turned to the parlors in a tasty costume of brown silk, 
relieved by a pink knot at the throat, her rich brown 
hair wreathed in waves around her face, Maude in her 
old caressing manner threw an arm around her saying, 
“ You have grown a most lovely woman, Kosamond ! ” 
And with a blush of pleasure Kosamond replied, 
Thank you.” 

Now, flatterers,” cried the voice of Mr. Kivers, from 
the curtained recess of the window, which they heard 
with a merry laugh. 

Irene Mortimer persistently refused Maude’s urgent 
and oft-repeated request to spend the summer with her, 
as she did not wish to meet Kosamond. She had about 
concluded to close her Fifth avenue mansion and re- 
move to Saratoga, when she incidentally heard a friend 
remark that Mr. Earle intended spending his vacation at 
the Kivers mansion, on the Hudson. Then, with a 


92 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


sarcastic smile on her ruby lips, she penned Maude a 
note saying, I will be with you within a week.” 

And the same evening that found Mr. Earle an inmate 
of the Kivers mansion also found Mrs. Mortimer en- 
sconced in its pleasantest nook. 

When, in the evening, Irene Mortimer entered the 
spacious parlors, her dark beauty, enhanced by her 
creamy silk, jewels and laces, she could but acknowledge 
to herself that it was a most lovely woman who met her 
eye in pale-blue silk, rich laces falling away from her 
delicate throat and hands, almost her only ornament 
being a tube-rose mid dewy leaves nestling in the rich 
brown braids, her sweet face beaming with peace and 
happiness. 

As Irene Mortimer gazed upon her, then at her own 
showy attire, the contemptuous smile faded from her 
lips and a pang shot through her selfish heart. 

But her attention was soon diverted from Eosamond 
toward the gentleman just entering the room, and as he 
saluted Mrs. Eivers, she said, I wish to introduce a 
former acquaintance,” and taking his arm she crossed 
the room to where Eosamond was sitting talking with 
Maude’s bright-eyed boy. Cousin Eosamond, allow 
me to introduce Mr. Earle. Mr. Earle, Miss Howard.” 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


W6 

With the glad expression on his face of one who had 
been seeking a lost treasure many years, and had at last 
discovered it, he said, “ I am very glad to resume our 
former acquaintance, Miss Howard.’’ 

And the dark blue-gray eyes were raised to his in the 
fearless light of other days. 

Irene, in a distant part of the parlors, surrounded by 
many admirers, cast furtive glances of jealousy at the 
unheeding recipients of her malice. 

When Mrs. Kivers’ guests dispersed for the night, she 
laid a detaining hand on Rosamond’s arm ; and after all 
had gone, she said, Do you know, cousin mine, that 
you have enthralled the lion of Hew York this evening ? ” 
Ho, I was not aware that I had, Maude ! ” and with 
a look of wonder on her face she quickly recalled 
the events of the evening. 

“Persevering beauties and manoeuvering mammas 
have tried their best to ensnare Harry Earle for the last 
ten years, but have not succeeded, and I don’t believe in 
the whole time he has been as devoted to one fair vision 
of loveliness as he has to you this evening.” 

“ I think you must be mistaken, Maude,” Rosamond 
said, with a flush on her face. 

“ A woman of my experience mistaken ! That 


94 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


couldn’t be, dear.” Then with a smile, she added, Don’t 
trample on your own happiness, Rosamond. Harry 
Earle is one of the leading lawyers of New York, and is 
as good and noble as he is gifted ; ” but observing the 
wistful expression of Rosamond’s face, she asked, You 
are not offended at my words of badinage, Rosamond ? ” 
Certainly not, Maude,” she replied, kissing her good- 
night. 

The wistful expression deepened on her face as she 
retired to her room, and recalled the days when Jack 
Maybee’s love had been the richest boon she craved on 
earth, and when death swept him out of her life she 
thought love would never again enthrall her heart. 

Yet, if it was as Maude divined, could she love this 
man ? And her heart answered, perhaps, while a smile 
crept around her lips and shone out of her eyes as she 
thought of his winning address apparently so full of 
reverence for true womanhood, and last, although not 
least, of his handsome face with its dark, eyes with the 
latent fire of eloquence in their depths. 

The days passed into weeks, and he never wavered in 
his attentions to Rosamond, but was her devoted cavalier 
on all occasions. 

In vain were the witcheries of Irene’s dark eyes thrown 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 95 

around him. Her sweetest smiles and dulcet tones were 
returned with the most common politeness. Seeing her 
efforts were futile, with a scornful frown upon her brow, 
a contemptuous smile on her lips, she bade the inmates 
of the Rivers mansion adieu, and departed for Saratoga. 

Meanwhile, Rosamond accepted, with a deeper pleas- 
ure than she would acknowledge to herself, the atten- 
tions of Harry Earle, and when at the end of his 
vacation he returned to his duties in the city, he went 
with her promise to be his bride. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

’Tis a time wlien memory lingers 
Across life’s dreary track, 

The past steals up before me, 

The lost come wandering back.” 

Most happily the days now went by to Rosamond in 
the society of Maude, her husband and their lovely chil- 
dren, the other guests having departed when the sum- 
mer’s heat subsided. 

One evening, at the close of a warm, delightful October 
day, while Maude, Mr. Rivers and Rosamond were sit- 


96 


ROSAMOND BOWABD. 


ting on the veranda, Mr. Kivers said, Harry Earle 
closed the bargain to-day for the Carle ton estate up the 
Hudson.” 

“ 0, Rosamond ! how delighted I am ; you will live 
within a half mile of us,” exclaimed Maude. 

And Rosamond, unable to realize that so many bless- 
ings of life could ever really be hers, said, I shall be 
glad to live near you, Maude.” 

One couldn’t suppose so, Rosamond, from the tone 
of your voice.” 

“ I was thinking, Maude, how many bright anticipa- 
tions had faded out of my life just as they seemed about 
to be realized, so I dare not hope too much.” 

“ There, no more croaking, Rosamond ; it is pre- 
posterous with hope beaming like an angel of light 
from every view. Has your friend. Miss Sanford, con- 
sented to be your bridesmaid ? ” 

“Yes, I think I have overruled her objections at last. 
I couldn’t reconcile myself to the thought of having any 
other friend for bridesmaid — she was the dearest friend 
of my early youth.” 

“ Yes, and I admire your constancy in clinging to her 
so many years. And have you not yet decided to be 
married here, Rosamond ? ” 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


97 


Yes, as you wish it so much. I must return to Bur- 
lington next week and dispose of some matters there ;; 
and as I have a letter I wish to answer this evening con- 
cerning my return there, I will retire to my room. 
Good-night.” 

One day, during her two weeks’ stay in Burlington, 
Kosamond passed the home where Ada Murray had 
lived and died, and with regret saw the closed shutters 
and desolate appearance of the house, and the beautiful 
lawn, once crowned with flowers and shrubs,, now over- 
grown with weeds. While standing at the gate think- 
ing of other days, a travel-stained, heavily bearded man 
came down the walk. 

As he neared her, a familiar movement in his walk 
reminded her of Will Murray, and when he raised his 
eyes, she exclaimed, Will Murray I can it be possi- 
ble!” 

“Yes, and this is Kosamond Howard, if I remember 
correctly ? ” 

“ Yes ; when did you return from Europe ? ” 

“ About two weeks ago.” 

“ I regret to see your beautiful home looking so des- 
olate, Will!” 

“ My life is desolate also.” 


98 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


But, do you suppose, if Ada could look down from 
her angel home, and see the home where she spent so 
many happy hours going to ruin, that she would be 
glad or sorry ? ” 

V I never thought of it in that way before, Kosa- 
mond.” 

think you would be happier if you would come 
back and live here, pursuing your work, as in the days 
when Ada was with you.” 

I believe you are right, Kosamond. It is certain I 
have not found happiness abroad.” 

“ I wish you would try it. Will.” 

“ I think I shall, Eosamond. I hear you have become 
an authoress of fame since I have been absent, and are 
about to leave Burlington.” 

“An authoress — yes. Come and visit me in my new 
home.” 

“ Thank you ; I will do so, Eosamond.” 

And Eosamond, bidding him adieu, continued on her 
walk. 

As she passed the room far up above the busily 
thronged streets, where she had lived, and struggled, 
and conquered, those years agone, with tear-dimmed eyes 
she wafted it a voiceless farewell. How little she dreamed 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


99 


in those lonely, toiling days, what the rewards of her 
labor were to be. Blessings innumerable in life, and for 
her soul a rich discipline. The narrow, jagged path is, 
after all, well worth our climbing. 

Kosamond continued her walk until she came to the 
home of her friend, Fannie Parker, and entering, was 
cordially greeted by her and her sister. 

Ah ! Rosamond Howard 1 what do you think I have 
heard about you ? ” exclaimed Fannie, placing Rosa- 
mond in an easy chair. 

Anything very humiliating, Fannie ? ’’ she answered 
with a smile. 

Yes, indeed ! that you are soon to be married.” 

Oh ! is that all, Fannie said Rosamond with as- 
sumed nonchalance. 

All ! I should think it was enough, Rosamond How- 
ard. And you never said ‘by your leave’ to your 
dearest friends ! ” 

“ Well, I came to see what you would say to cousin 
Maude’s invitation to spend the holidays at her home.” 

“ But when are you to be married, Rosamond ? ” 

“Hew Year’s eve.” 

“ 0, I should be delighted to come. Do you suppose 
I can go ?” Fannie said, addressing her sister. 


100 


nOSAMOND HOWARD. 


I know of nothing to prevent your going, Fannie’’ 
“ Then if nothing happens I shall come, Rosamond. 
Will any one else be there from Burlington ? ” 

I think not. I wished very much to have Carrie 
Stephens and Mrs. Munson come, but Carrie has a 
former engagement, she informs me, which cannot very 
well be broken, and Mrs. Munson expects visitors, so I 
shall have to wait until I am settled in my home for 
their coming. And I hope you and your sister will visit 
me there.” Rosamond bade them adieu ; and on the 
morrow returned to Maude’s home. 


CHAPTER XX. 

O ! sweet, fond dream of human love. — Whittiek. 

“ And thou wert pitiful. I came heart sore 
And drank thy cup because earth’s cup ran dry, 

Thou slew’st me not for that impiety. 

But made the draught so sweet. I thirst no more.” 

f The beautiful stars that Rosamond had loved in her 
childhood, and whose true and pitying lights shone down 
upon her in her sorrow, the loved companions of her 
lonely years of struggle, nodded and smiled from their 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 101 

dusky thrones, as if in glad approval upon the New- 
Year’s eve that saw her a joyful bride. 

In the centre of the beautiful, spacious parlors of the 
Eivers mansion, festooned and wreathed with sweet 
breathed flowers and trailing evergreens, gathers the 
bridal group ; while the low-toned cadences of a joyous 
melody fall upon their ears. 

Handsome Harry Earle, with a bright gladness in his 
face, stands with Kosamond leaning on his arm. 

Kosamond’s white silk, looped with orange blossoms, 
sweeps the rich carpet in queenly folds, the bridal veil 
and orange wreath crown her rich brown wavy hair, her 
blue-gray eyes filled with intense joyful light, and a 
smile wreathed her lips. 

At her side is Ella Sanford, the friend of her childhood, 
in a delicate tint of rose-hued silk and delicate laces, 
which give a rare charm to the wavy blonde hair and 
pale intellectual face. 

Near by stands stylish, queenly Fannie, Parker in 
wine-colored silk and creamy overdress, creamy laces 
falling away from her delicate throat and arms, while a 
diamond star flames mid the dark braids of her hair, 
throwing the witcheries of her dark-brown eyes over a 
younger brother of Mr. Earle, an artist. 


102 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


Maude, sweet, golden-haired Maude, leaning upon her 
husband’s arm, her delicate beauty enhanced by her 
pale-blue silk and misty laces, her lovely children by her 
side, views the group with delight beaming from every 
feature. 

At last the solemn words are spoken, and those 
whose paths separated so strangely are now blended 
into one. 

But where was Irene Mortimer on Rosamond’s mar- 
riage day ? 

Resplendent in her rich toilet of ruby velvet and dia- 
monds, her lips wreathed with smiles, she stood the 
envied queen of a fashionable gathering, her gay laugh 
and witty repartee ringing down the lofty rooms. But 
once in her room all changed with Irene. 

She dismissed her maid, closely locked her door, and 
with impatient hands tore the flashing diamonds from 
her dusky hair and snowy neck, and flung them a burn- 
ing heap at her feet. Taking off her velvet robe, she 
tossed it from her with an expression of disgust. Then 
donning a simple white wrapper, threw herself into a 
low easy chair and burst into a passion of tears. 

She sat then in her lonely home that night, surround- 
ed by the luxury purchased at so dear a price, thinking 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


103 


with heart-rending anguish, that the man she had loved 
so many years, was, ere this, the husband of Rosamond 
Howard. 

The sweet hope that had cheered her through all 
those years was gone. 

What permanent happiness had she gained during all 
these years, thrown out so carelessly upon the sands of 
time ? What true heart could she trustingly call her 
own ? 

Hone, was the wail of her stricken heart. 

She might have been surrounded by love and friends, 
even as Maude and Rosamond, if she had lived their 
pure, unselfish lives. 

A week later, and Irene Mortimer is missed from the 
halls of fashion. Gone, without even the usual farewell 
calls fashion requires of its devotees. Gone. Hone 
knew whither. But a note found its way to Maude, 
saying : 

Do not be alarmed at any rumors you may hear. I -will be 
•V7ith you in a few weeks. Give my love and best wishes to 
Harry and Eosamond. Ikbne. 

In a few weeks, as she had promised, she came to 
Maude’s home. And after kisssing her saddened, tear- 
stained face, Maude said, “ My dear sister ! where have 
you been, and what has happened to you ? ” 


104 


ROSAMOND EOWARD, 


Nothing, Maude, only I have begun my life anew, 
and I wanted to go away awhile from the curious eyes 
of the world until I saw my way more clearly,” and a 
smile of peace wreathed her lips and shone from the 
softened glance of her dark eyes. 

Maude threw her arm caressingly around her, saying, 

How glad I how very glad I am, my sister ! my beau- 
tiful Irene ! that you have given up your life of fashion. 
I have noticed for some months that you seemed dissat- 
isfied with it. But where were you on Kosamond’s mar- 
riage day. We regretted your absence.” 

A spasm of pain crossed Irene’s face when she replied, 
“I couldn’t come feeling as I did then, Maude ; hut it 
is past, and don’t ever mention it again, sweet sister.” 

“ F orgive me, Irene ; I did not know you cared so much. 
How I wish I could persuade you to remain with us. 
Charlie and I would he very glad to have you make your 
home here.” 

I think I Avill, Maude. I feel the need of your sym- 
pathy and love.” 

“ And you have it, dear sister.” 

Where are Harry and Kosamond now ? ” asked 
Irene, with a look of apprehension, for she did not feel 
capable of meeting them just yet. 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


105 


They returned from their wedding tour, and took 
possession of their home about a week ago. You know 
Harry bought the Carleton estate.” 

Seeing a wistful look on Irene’s face, she continued, 
Kosamond well deserves her happiness, Irene.” 

Yes, Maude ; I see it all now. She is a true, lovely 
woman, and I am ashamed that I have been so unwilling 
to acknowledge it all these years, but I mean to redeem 
my past as much as is possible.” 

I have no fear but that you will, Irene ; and I hope 
we will know and love each other better in the future.” 

I mean to deserve your love, sweet sister.” 

In after years the poor, the homeless and the unfor- 
tunate found one of their best friends in Irene Mortimer. 

The honored inmate of Maude’s beautiful home, amid 
its simple pleasures and duties, she is finding her hap- 
piness. 


106 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

“ And I gave my heart to my lady’s keeping, 

And ever her strength on mine shall lean, 

And the stars shall fall, and the angels be weeping, 

Ere I cease to love her, my queen, my queen ! ” 

June, queen month of all the year ! Her royal green 
robes are trailing over the earth, bordered with bright- 
hued fragrant flowers, and her queenly brow is crowned 
with roses. From her delicate hands she scatters dew- 
drops like glittering diamonds upon the earth, refresh- 
ing and beautifying all they touch. Even the poorest 
receive a token of her passing, if it be but a tiny blade 
of grass, peeping out from the pavement of the crowded 
thoroughfare. With lavish hands she has strewn her 
gifts around the Earle mansion on the banks of the 
beautiful Hudson. 

The roseate hues of the sunset lingers, as if in caress, 
upon the beautiful landscape, and upon the sweet-faced 
woman, leaning against the pillars of the piazza. 

Can it be the sad-faced little girl we met so many 
years ago, sitting on the door of the old farm house ? 
The sad, childish face, raised as now to the glow of the 
sunset clouds ? 


ROSAMOND BO WARD. 


107 


Yes, it it is tlie same, yet how different then and now ! 
Then, a lonely sad-faced child, longing for a glimpse of 
the world of which she had heard. Now, a lovely wo- 
man, with the sadness softened into peace upon her face, 
and the world a well read book. 

The ringing hoofs of coming horses arouses her from 
her reverie, and with a happy smile she greets the fine 
looking, dark-haired man coming toward her, saying, 

Are you not late, Harry ? ” 

Yes, Kosamond, I was detained a half hour. Here 
is a letter for you.” 

She broke the seal and read it, then said, Harry, my 
publishers wish me to write another book.” 

“ But you will not ? ” a sly humor in his dark eyes. 

Why not ? ” she asked in surprised tones. 

Because I do not wish you to, Kosamond.” 

I shall be sorry to thwart your wishes, Harry, but I 
shall do so, nevertheless.” 

But, suppose I forbid you ? ” he said in stern tones, 
shall do so just the same, Harry. It is my life 
work, appointed me in the vineyard of my Divine Mas- 
ter. Would you have me lay it down an uncrowned 
victor on the battle ground of life, because the pleasani; 


108 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


places have become my inheritance ? ” and raised her 
earnest eyes to his face. 

^^Well said, my Kosamond ! queen of women ! You 
shall earn your crown, and wear it, and I will help at 
the coronation,” he said with a fond look. 

You have already crowned me, Harry ! ” she replied, 
with the love-light in her eyes. 

^^How so, sweet-heart ? ” 

With your love, my husband ! ” 

Amen,” he said, laying his hand in benediction on 
her head. Then, with his arm thrown caressingly 
around her, they entered their home. 

And here, as the years go by among the new friends 
who gather around Kosamond, you will meet from 
time to time her friends of other days. 

Dreamy-eyed Ella Sanford is there. Her pale intel- 
lectual face alight with happiness as if the beautiful 
vision she had seen in the dim future so many years, 
was at last within her possession. Perchance it is, for 
she is betrothed to a distinguished gentleman from the 
great Metropolis. 

Kosamond, observing the new happiness on her face, 
lays a caressing hand upon her wavy blonde hair, say- 
ing, I wish you much joy, my true-hearted friend.” 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. 


109 


“ Thank you, Kosamond,” she replied, smiling. 

At other times you will meet pretty piquant Mrs. 
Munson, charming all with her winning grace of manners, 
her songs one of the rare pleasures in Rosamond’s home, 
and fair-haired, bright-eyed little Mortie, still pursuing 
his mischievous pranks. 

Then again you will see the sweet, winsome face of 
Carrie Stephens, her gay words and merry laugh ringing 
out as joy-laden as ever. 

Oftener than all of the other-time friends who meet in 
Rosamond’s home, you will see Fannie Parker, the 
queenly grace of her presence an ornament to the Earle 
mansion. Frank Earle, brother of Harry Earle, an 
artist, of Hew York, has chosen dark-eyed Fanny to he 
queen of his heart and home, and ere many months their 
marriage will be celebrated. 

We often find there golden-haired Maude with her 
beautiful children. Irene sometimes comes too. You 
would hardly know her, she has grown so gentle and 
loving, much to the delight of the children who call her 
aunt Irene. 

They are there now, sitting with Harry Earle and 
Charlie Rivers on the piazza of Rosamond’s home. It 
is a beautiful evening, and the setting sun bathes them 


110 


ROSAMOND HOWARD, 


all in its bright warm glow. Frank Earle and Fannie 
Parker are sauntering down the walk, arm in arm. 
Kosamond gazes on the picture they make, and wishes 
she had the brush of an artist to paint it. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

“Life, if life is rightly lived, 

Is one long vision, 

All faculties 

Employed as God would have them used, are steps 
Upon the stairs by which man climbs to heaven.” 

Twenty years go by with all their changing seasons. 

The gay youth and blooming maiden of twenty years 
ago are now the staid and middle-aged man and matron, 
and the lisping child has become the youth or maiden, 
and the devastating scythe, which time wields with un- 
erring sweep, has swept many from the path of life. 

Many changes have come to the members of the group 
that gathered at Rosamond’s home that evening so long 
ago. 

Some have gathered there again. There is Maude, 
not the sweet, winsome Maude of other days, and yet the 
same. Now silver threads gleam mid the gold of her 
hair, and her form has lost somewhat the girlish grace 


ROSAMOND HOWARD. HI 

of other years, yet the same happy expression beams 
from her blue eyes, and smiles around her lips. 

At her side sits queenly Irene Mortimer. Time has 
scarcely left a trace of his presence in her dusky hair, or 
in the glance of her dark eye, but peace is written on 
her brow in place of the haughty frown. 

Not far distant, Charlie Kivers, now a gray-haired 
man, yet with somewhat of the olden merry light in his 
eyes, is conversing with a fine looking, dark-haired youth 
and lovely, golden-haired maiden who call him “ papa.” 

And Eosamond, brave-hearted Eosamond, stands by 
the pillar of the piazza, gazing into the sunset clouds as 
of yore. The roseate light rests as if in benediction 
upon her sweet face, the high, broad brow crowned with 
hair silvery-brown, while a holier light beams from the 
depths of the blue-gray eyes, as of one often looking into 
the unseen world. 

At her side, their arms linked in hers, are two promis- 
ing looking youths, one dark-haired and dark-eyed, the 
other has* the rich brown hair and blue-gray eyes of 
Eosamond. They are well worthy their lovely mother. 

But what means this black robe with its heavy folds 
of crape draping Eosamond’s fine figure ? Ah ! it tells 
but too plainly that Eosamond Earle is a widow. 


ROSAMOITD HOWARD. 


( 

112 

Harry Earle had become a famous, prosperous lawyer, 
and filled high places in the land. Death came ere time 
had scarcely silvered his hair, and with his beloved 
Kosamond by his side, her hand close clasping his, he 
went a victor from the battle plains of life with the faith 
and trust of a little child to meet his God. 

When the dearest friend and companion of her life lay 
dead, Kosamond, strewing the sweet fiowers over the 
form she loved so well, said to her weeping sons, 

Carve upon your hearts, my sons, the motto of your 
noble father, ^Onward and upward,’ and victory will 
be yours, even as it is his.” 

Her courage never wavered. When the clods of the 
valley were piled above his grave, she took up her lonely 
life with a holier light shining from the depths of the 
blue-gray eyes. 

With her dutiful sons at her side, she was content to 
walk calmly down the vale of years ; while on the heights 
the star gleams nearer, much nearer, and the shadowy 
outline of a tender face beaming down, grows more dis- 
tinct to the watching, waiting eyes of Kosamond How- 
ard Earle. 


THE END. 


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Price, 36 cents. 

Has the curiosity-exciting tendency. — Boston, Beacon. 

The Interest grows and retains attention to the end— JV. 0. Picayune. 

Short, sententious, marrowy, and spiced with episodes. Has a warm southern aroma 

of orange and magnolia blossoms Baltimore Meth. Prot. 

Of rare beauty and power In Its vivid, life-like picturing of men and places 

Through such artistic touches of skill and strength we are wafted In thought as we fol- 
low the hero and heroine through the mazes of the old, old story Ladies' Pearl, St. Louis. 

The Travelers’ Grab-Bag; or, the Heart of a Quiet Hour; 

A Hand-book for utilizing fragments of leisure in railroad 
trains, steamboats, way stations and easy chairs. Edited 
by An Old Traveler. . . . Paper, pp., 

Price, 35 cents. 

Full of spice and fun. — Baltimore Mefh. Prot. 

No traveler should be without It. — N. T. Forest and Stream. 

Teeming with rollicking humor and a kind of satire that will be enjoyable.— PtUs&urj^A 
Commercial. 


The Anti-Biled Shirt Club: 

Clear type, heavy tinted paper, 12mo, . . 35 cents. 

The curious and ludicrous experiences of a party of gentlemen who 
sought happiness in the forests of Maine ; graphically told with a naive 
humor and delicate satire; fresh and spicy. 


THE authors’ publishing CO.’S NEW BOOKS. 

THE SATCHEL SERIES. — NOTICE. 

This popular series comprises the brightest and best brief 
works of fiction by American Authors who are, for the 
most part, well known to the reading public? They are not 
trashy reprints nor dime novels. They are clean and polished 
in matter, printed in large type, bound in convenient shape, 
and offer fascinating and delightful reading alike for Railway, 
Fireside and Library. 


Lily’s Lover ; or, a Trip Out of Season. 

By the author of “ Climbing the Mountains,” etc. Satchel 
Series ; square 12mo, paper covers ... 35 cents. 

A very sweet and pretty story of summer-time romantic adven- 
tures among the green hills and silvery lakes of Connecticut. 


Rosamond Howard. 

By Kate R. Lovelace. Satchel Series ; square 12mo, 

paper covers 25 cents. 

Extra edition, in fine English cloth . . . 60 

A quiet, pathetic and attractive story, excellently managed and 
beautifully told, with continuous and increasing interest. 


The Voice of a Shell. 

By 0. C. Auringer. Satchel Series; square 12mo, paper 
covers 50 cents. 

To all lovers of the sea, and to all who linger by its sounding 
shores, nothing can be more entrancing than the pages of this 
beautiful little volume. It is delicate, brilliant and grand. 


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